


Hope Is Hard to Come By

by savorvrymoment



Series: 'Hope' [1]
Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Dubious Consent, M/M, Prostitution, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savorvrymoment/pseuds/savorvrymoment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Yes, hope is hard to come by, but when you least expect it, it might walk up to you in the middle of a dark night with the brightest green eyes you’ve ever seen.~  Old finished Brian/Zack fic moving from livejournal.  Second part in progress, link included.  Enjoy!<3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~He does his best to just put on the show he’s paid for, to not think about the family that they probably have at home, the wife that has no idea what her husband is doing behind her back~

It's getting late – or actually early, Brian supposes – and he’s thinking it’s time to call it quits for the night.

It’s been slow – two blowjobs, and then a handjob that he didn’t get paid for. Damn jackass, zipping his pants up and then running for it. Brian cursed him out until he was around the corner and out of sight, but in the end, all he could really do about it was wipe his hand on his jeans and head back to his spot on the sidewalk.

He has a few regulars, mostly older married guys that Brian can only assume are in denial about their sexuality. Brian tries not to think about it when he’s going down on them, or when they’re holding him in the back alley, fucking him up against the brick wall. He does his best to just put on the show he’s paid for, to not think about the family that they probably have at home, the wife that has no idea what her husband is doing behind her back. But they always pay him, never hurt him, which is a lot more than Brian can say about the majority of johns he gets. So he has no right to judge.

He doesn’t see them as often this time of year, though. It’s late November, just before Thanksgiving, and he figures that the holidays must make them feel guilty. In fact, everything seems to slow down in November, and it generally doesn’t pick back up until mid-January. Brian continually dreads it every year, and it only gets worse with time. He brings in less cash, and the cold settles in. It’s not the holidays for Brian. It’s just another winter that he’ll have to pull himself through.

But there’s nothing he can do about it tonight. He stands for a few more minutes, mostly delaying having to go back to his alley, not really expecting to get another john. He watches the two prostitutes across the street give it up for the night, watches them walk around the corner, assumedly to whatever hellhole they’re spending the night at, and finally decides to leave as well.

He sighs, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration, and turns around to meet inquisitive green eyes. Brian can’t help but jump in shock at the sudden intrusion. Green Eyes stares at him for a moment before dropping his gaze, fidgeting. He’s so visibly nervous, Brian finds it laughable.

“You looking for something?” Brian asks eventually.

Green Eyes shakes his head, then supplies, “I was just heading to my car…” Contrary to his words, he continues to stand there and stare.

“You sure?” Brian counters, arching an eyebrow. This guy is young, no wedding band, quiet and shy. Brian is almost positive he will fall into the ‘pays money, doesn’t hurt’ category. Basically, he’s easy money.

“My car’s – my car’s this way,” he says, tripping over his words a bit, pointing absently. Brian waits, unsure of exactly what this means. He thinks he knows, but… “It’s pretty private back there,” Green Eyes adds, and Brian's thoughts are confirmed.

“Lead the way,” Brian says, gesturing vaguely. Green Eyes turns, and Brian follows.

True to word, the parking garage is dark, hidden. Brian’s been back here before. He can remember being nervous about his safety once he’d hit the dark interior. For some reason, he’s unconcerned tonight.

They pile into the man’s black hybrid, and Brian finds himself astraddle Green Eyes in the front seat, back pressed against the steering wheel. He curls forward a bit, resting his hands on the man’s shoulders, and murmurs, “So, pretty boy. Whatcha want?”

Green Eyes stares at him for a moment, then presses forward for a kiss. Brian jerks back on gut instinct, because people don’t kiss whores, and whores don’t kiss people. His back hits the horn, and the noise echoes around them. Green Eyes stares for an awkward moment, obviously a little shocked at Brian’s reaction, but then asks, “What’s your name?”

“Gates,” Brian tells him, an automatic response.

“Gates?”

“Gates,” Brian confirms. Then, “What’s your name?”

“Zack. Zacky,” the man replies, and Brian nods, gathering himself back together.

“Well, Zacky. What can I do for you?” he asks, squeezing the man’s shoulders a bit for emphasis. When he doesn’t get an answer, Brian adds, “$25 for handjob, $50 for blowjob, $100 for whatever the hell you want…”

Zack opens his mouth as though he’s going to say something, but then shuts it. Brian realizes he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands.

“You want me to go down on you?” he asks, voice low and breathy. He eases a hand between them and palms at the guy’s crotch. He’s already hard, and Brian feels quick, easy money. “Want me to suck you off? Let you come down my throat?” he adds, watching as Zack shifts a bit in the seat, pushes his hips up against Brian.

“Yeah,” Zack mutters after a few unsteady breaths. Brian scoots back and drops to his knees, back hunched in an attempt to keep from banging his head on the steering wheel. This attempt fails, but Brian doesn’t wince. He’s used to being uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, Zack pushes the seat back to give Brian more room, and Brian crawls forward with him, sliding his hands up the man’s thighs.

This act of unexpected consideration does not pass Brian’s attention.

He quickly gets down to business, unbuckling and unzipping, pushing fabric aside to get to skin. He tries not to think about the fact that this Zack kid actually seems like a decent guy, not the kind of guy that cruises the streets looking for an easy lay. Regardless, he still ends up wondering what the guy’s story might be. Being objective is something Brian hasn’t yet fully mastered. He can’t help but wonder about most of the men he sees.

Zack doesn’t last very long, something that Brian has come to regard as a relief. He continues to be insanely considerate, raking his fingers through Brian’s hair and rubbing at the back of Brian’s neck. Brian’s more used to having his hair pulled and his face held down, his mouth fucked until he’s gagging.

Zack bucks his hips up once, and Brian gags because the guy’s been mostly still, just squirming every once in a while, and Brian hasn’t really been paying much attention. When Brian pulls off for a moment, letting his hand take over while he swallows back that reflex, Zack doesn’t order him back down, doesn’t grab his head and push him back down. Zack apologizes.

The guy fucking _apologizes._

And Zack’s young, skin soft and a little velvety, and he’s quiet, just small gasps with the occasional breathy whimper. His hair is trimmed neatly, and he smells clean, mostly like soap, just a little bit of a sexual musk there too. He runs a hand down the side of Brian’s neck, lightly squeezes Brian’s shoulder, and for one brief moment, Brian forgets that he’s being paid to do this.

Zack warns when he’s about to come, something that is also unheard of, and Brian plays with his balls, not pulling off until he’s gotten every last drop. Zack reaches out and runs a thumb across Brian’s lower lip, and Brian wonders why he’s so turned on.

He also wonders why he lets Zack pull him up from the floor and into a wet, sloppy kiss. It’s nice, really, the way Zack licks into his mouth and cradles the back of his neck in his hand. However, when he runs a hand down Brian’s stomach and repeats Brian’s moves from earlier, cupping his hand across the front of Brian’s jeans, Brian quickly decides that this needs to end. And it needs to end now.

He scoots back until he’s kneeling on the floorboard again, and looks up at Zack while Zack looks down at him. After a moment, Zack tucks himself back into his jeans, does up the fly, then squirms to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He hands Brian a crumpled up bill, and Brian takes it before silently letting himself out of the car.

The headlights to Zack’s car follow him slowly out of the garage, and Brian starts to get a bit nervous, wondering if he’s read the guy wrong. But then Brian hits the sidewalk, and Zack’s hybrid heads in the opposite direction down the road.

He realizes that Zack had been watching to ensure Brian makes it safely out of the dark confines of the parking garage. His heart spasms, but he ignores this. Instead, he silently berates Zack for apparently thinking that he can’t take care of himself.

When he gets back to his alleyway and pulls the cash out of his pocket, he realizes that Zack has given him a hundred dollar bill, twice the amount that he owed him.

His heart spasms again, but at the same time, he curses Zack and hopes he doesn’t see him again.

~*~

Of course, by Murphy’s law, Zack turns up three days later.

He walks over from the direction of the parking garage. Brian eyes him from where he’s leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand. He flicks the ash from the tip as Zack comes to a stop in front of him.

“Can I take you to a motel or something?” Zack asks. Brian wants to laugh at the absurdity of this question.

“It’s your money,” Brian answers, shrugging.

Zack nods, and they once again head around the corner and to the parking garage.

Zack ends up fucking him doggy style on the motel bed, his chest pressed against Brian’s back, his breath hot and heavy against Brian’s spine. He takes the time to prep him, fingers scissoring inside of him, and as far as Brian can tell, the guy actually gets off on it. He pushes Brian down into the bed, pushes down until Brian’s stretched out beneath him, and Brian’s completely aware of how wanton he is at that moment, at how he’s spread out on the bed, sweating, hard, so fucking turned on.

He wants to reach a hand down, jerk himself off, but he doesn’t go there. He’s can’t allow himself to enjoy this. He can’t go down that road.

Brian has a thing about tattoos. He stares at Zack’s forearms once they’re in sight, tattoos vibrant against the dull beige of the comforter. One of those forearms eventually disappears, and Brian feels calloused fingers wrap around his dick. His mind tells him to bat Zack’s hand away, but Brian’s mind suddenly has no say anymore.

He enjoys himself. He goes down that road. And he comes so, so hard.

Afterwards, Zack falls asleep, and Brian quietly lets himself into the bathroom. He cleans himself up, pulls his clothes back on, and heads for the door without looking back.

He gets caught before he can get out of the room.

“You can stay, you know,” Zack mumbles, and Brian glances back to find Zack watching him, tired and obviously satisfied. Brian wonders if he looks the same way, wonders if he looks even half as attractive as Zack does at that moment.

“I have to work if I want money,” Brian tells him.

“I can pay,” Zack says. “Cover whatever you usually make…”

It’s so, so tempting. It’d be amazing to just lie back down next to his warm body, to be done for the night, but Brian knows that he can’t. “That’s not how this works,” Brian answers.

Zack hesitates, his mouth half open as if he is about to argue, but then relents with a soft, “All right.”

Brian turns back, pulls open the door.

“Your money’s sitting on the nightstand,” Zack says quietly.

Brian freezes, and he can feel himself blushing. He turns back and heads toward the bed with as much nonchalance as he can muster up. Two hundred dollars stares up at him from the nightstand, and he mentally groans, just picking up one of the hundred dollar bills.

“Take it all,” Zack says.

“You only owe me a hundred,” Brian counters.

“I said take it all.”

“Zack…”

“I said fucking take it, man,” Zack says, voice cold. Brian glances over to the bed, half-alarmed, half-indignant. Zack grins after a tense moment, and says, “I’ve never met anyone so averse to getting paid.”

Brian still hesitates, but eventually takes both bills with a quiet ‘thank you’. Zack doesn’t answer, and so Brian leaves the hotel in silence.

He uses the extra money to get a taxi instead of having to walk back, and in the end, his feet thank Zack as well.

~*~

Zack comes back two more times before the week of Thanksgiving. He takes Brian back to the hotel both times, and he makes Brian leave with extra money both times. Brian sucks him off the first time, then lets Zack fuck him on his back the second time. He does his best not to stare at Zack while he’s being fucked. He tries not to notice the way his muscles slide under his tattoos, and he keeps his head turned to the side so he doesn’t look Zack in the eye.

He only gets a few johns over Thanksgiving weekend, but he has enough money from Zack to keep himself fed. He even buys a couple of extra blankets for the cold and still has plenty of money left over.

His first john that Monday is an older guy Brian hasn’t seen before. He gives Brian a hundred dollar bill, then manhandles him once they’re in the back alley. He shoves Brian up against the wall, yanks Brian’s jeans down, and thrusts in dry, no condom. It hurts like hell, but it’s the bigger picture that has Brian fighting back, squirming to get away, kicking back at the man’s legs.

He gets out of the guy’s hold, but then only gets a few, stumbling steps away before strong hands wrap around his neck. He coughs, choking, scratching at the man’s hands as he struggles for breath.

The man doesn’t release him, but rather slams Brian up against the wall. His head is slung soundly into the brick, and he collapses to the ground before the pain even registers.

When he wakes up, he’s alone. Even fiber of his being screams in agony, and it takes everything he has to push himself up to his hands and knees and crawl over to the old, mildewed couch that he calls his bed. He hikes his jeans back up and lies down, staring down at where his backpack used to be.

His backpack: a few changes of clothes, a bar of soap, whatever nonperishable food he has, and his money. His fucking money. Gone.

He doesn’t sleep. He can’t sleep. All he can do is stare at the sky and watch the sun slowly rise into the sky.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Brian watches as this information and all of its connotations hits Zack full across the face. He watches Zack collapse a bit on the inside. “Don’t,” Brian says before Zack can even open his mouth. “Just don’t. Save your breath.”~

Finding a comfortable position to lie in becomes more and more impossible as the hours tick by, but somehow against all logic, Brian manages to fall asleep mid-morning. He tells himself that this is what he needs, just some rest. He’ll sleep it off like a hangover, and then get up to work for the night. He’ll recover the cash with time, buy some more clothes and supplies once he’s able, and things will go back to normal.

He only gets a few hours of sleep before he’s awake and scrambling, his stomach already working it’s way up to his throat. He manages to stumble away from the couch before he starts puking, and it’s the sort of sick that seems to come all the way up from the ankles. He’s shaking by the time he stops heaving, and he takes a few wobbly steps back before half-sinking, half-falling against the wall and to the floor.

He stops to catch his breath, and then does a subconscious assessment of things.

There’s a huge pumpknot on the side of his head, and he feels like he might be getting a black eye out of the deal too. Though he’s not sure how or why, his right shoulder is bruised and burning in an ungodly sort of way - Brian thinks he may have fallen on it wrong when it went down. The left side of his ribcage is swollen and sore and bruised as well. Brian feels like he’s been kicked repeatedly. He realizes that he probably has been.

And the most recent developments – nausea and dizziness.

He needs medical attention. He knows this, but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. There’s a free walk-in clinic a few blocks down that he’s been to once before. They’d seemed nice enough, and they hadn’t asked a lot of questions.

But then again, Brian had only needed an HIV test before. He hadn’t looked as though he’d just lost a battle with the sidewalk. There will be more questions this time – questions that he won’t be able to answer truthfully - Brian is sure of this.

All the same, he drags himself to his feet as soon as he’s able, and goes to hobbling down the sidewalk in the direction of the clinic. He gets worried and shocked glances by passersby, but just continues to put one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other…

He finds himself standing in front of the clinic, no real recollection of crossing streets or actually getting there in the first place, but then he staggers inside to blessed, blessed relief in the shape of one blond nurse.

“Oh, God. Here, here, let me help you,” the woman says, jumping up from where she’d been kneeling on the floor and looking over another, younger patient. Her sneakers squeak on the tile floor as she hurries over, and she bends down and lets him lean against her. She shuffles him over to the nearest chair, eases him down in it, and if Brian were feeling better, he’d be laughing at the fact that he’d just let a woman help him into a chair.

He lets his head loll backwards into the wall, and as pain sparks up the back of his neck, really wishes that he hadn’t.

“Our doctor is busy with an emergency case,” the blond nurse rambles, pulling a fresh chart out of a file cabinet. “He’s headed to the hospital. But I’ll get you in to see our nurse practitioner.”

“Thanks,” Brian mumbles, and then once again accepts help into the back. The nurse throws a curtain back, revealing one of the small exam rooms, and sits him down on the bed. She takes some basic information from him – name, age, date of onset, any insurance - then goes to leave. Before she swings the curtain shut, she puts a hospital gown in his lap and gives him orders to change into it.

Once she’s gone, Brian takes the gown and throws it in the corner toward the trash bin. And then he waits.

It’s about five minutes before the curtain swings back open, and so appears a very familiar face.

Zack stares at him, one hand still on the curtain, the other holding a clipboard to his chest. “Holy shit,” he says after a brief moment of shock, and Brian hears an answering call of ‘beautiful language, Baker’ from somewhere behind Zack. If Zack hears this come back, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he yanks the curtain closed behind him and walks over to Brian, concern quite visible in his eyes.

Brian starts laughing, and once he starts, he can’t stop.

“What the hell?” Zack says, though Brian’s not really sure if he’s referring to the injuries or the fact that Brian’s started cackling like a maniac. He takes Brian’s face in his hand, tilting Brian’s head to the side as he inspects the head injury.

“This is…” Brian says, jerking out of Zack’s hand and consequently causing a wave of dizziness to go through him. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving,” Brian decides, but when he gets up, the world seems to move under his feet.

He stumbles into Zack, and Zack promptly pushes him right back onto the bed. “Stop it,” Zack tells him plainly, and then goes back to looking at Brian’s forehead. “What happened?” he asks, gloved fingers gently feeling the swollen bruise, then edging up into his hair. “Mmm, you’ve got a laceration up here,” he says, mostly talking to himself. Brian feels a pinch to his scalp, and he flinches on impulse. “Sorry, man,” Zack says quietly, removing his fingers. “Just had to make sure it wasn’t deep.”

“It’s okay,” Brian answers, feeling humiliated already. Then, to answer the question, “I got mugged.” Which isn’t a complete lie.

Nevertheless, he gets a very suspicious look from Zack before the man asks, “Any other injuries besides the obvious?”

“I did something to my shoulder,” Brian answers, motioning to the offending body part. “And I think I must have gotten kicked here,” he adds, lifting up his shirt enough to show off the rather impressive bruise blooming across his side.

Zack frowns, then asks, “Did Val not give you a gown to change into?”

“Uh,” Brian says. “Yeah, the nurse gave me one. It’s over there.” Zack glances back at the wadded up gown by the trash can.

“Great. Uncooperative, and only half the story,” Zack mumbles, though it’s quite loud enough for Brian to hear. And Brian knows that he was meant to hear it. “Well, at least take your shirt off?” Zack asks.

And while Zack says it in a completely professional manner, Brian still feels naughty pulling his shirt over his head. He tells himself it is an inherent reaction from his line of work.

Zack proceeds to pull Brian’s shoulder around, apologizing repeatedly every time Brian so much as winces, then declares that he’s probably ripped a ligament in his shoulder, possibly torn his rotator cuff. Surgery is the preferred treatment, and it goes unsaid but understood that since Brian can’t afford it, surgery isn’t an option for him.

And then Zack moves onto his ribcage, poking and prodding and once again apologizing profusely. He assures Brian that none of his ribs are completely fractured, but that they could definitely be cracked or bruised. He tells Brian to take it easy, to not bend over too much, and Brian tries not to laugh.

Brian knows that there is one more thing to talk to Zack about, but he subconsciously waits until Zack is pulling his gloves off and tossing them into the trash can. He doesn’t quite meet Zack’s eye when he adds, “And before you go, I, uh… I need to get tested. For HIV.”

Zack’s head snaps up, and Brian’s heart breaks at the look of utter panic on Zack’s face. “You’re fine,” Brian assures him quickly, though he can’t expect this to calm Zack down in the least. “It wasn’t – you’re fine,” Brian stutters again, shaking his head. We used protection, Brian wants to say, but he also realizes that this will only worry Zack more, as well as probably get him in deep shit if one of his coworkers hears him.

Zack is silent at first, but then he cocks his hip to the side and narrows his eyes. It would be an utterly terrifying expression if he hadn’t flourished his way through it, but it just makes Brian want to smile. My little gay nurse practitioner, he thinks, biting his tongue, then scolds himself for acting like a thirteen-year-old with a first crush.

It only seems to make Zack angrier that his glare did not instill instant fear. He folds his arms across his chest and snarls quietly, “You know, this would be so much easier on everyone involved if you would just tell the truth.”

Brian is still largely unintimidated, but it’s the underlying disappointment in Zack’s voice that has Brian opening his mouth. “I was working at the time,” Brian admits. “I got in over my head, and then couldn’t get out,” he adds, staying vague. He really doesn’t want to be overheard and carted off to the penitentiary.

Zack’s quiet at first, something far too close to pity showing across his face, before he says, “HIV tests are only accurate after a thirty-day window period…”

“Oh,” Brian says. He thinks he might have known this at some point in time, but he’s not sure.

“Yeah,” Zack replies. He fidgets for a moment, then says, “Considering that you were raped, I should do an anal exam…”

“Who said anything about rape?!” Brian says, far too loudly considering their exam room is made out of curtains.

Zack pinches the bridge of his nose. “You just said…”

“You can’t rape a fucking prostitute,” Brian hisses.

“That’s not true,” Zack says immediately.

“Says who?”

“If you don’t consent, you don’t consent. Doesn’t matter who you are…”

“You think you’re real smart, don’t you?”

“…and if someone has hit you on the head or choked you until you passed out, that pretty much makes it impossible to consent.”

Brian opens his mouth to argue some more, but then is suddenly spitting out, “How did you know he choked me?”

“Lucky guess,” Zack says sarcastically, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You’ve got finger marks on your neck.”

“Oh,” Brian says, brought up short. He runs a hand down his throat absently, but can’t feel any swelling.

“Do you think you have a fissure?” Zack asks.

Brian blinks. “English, please?”

Zack heaves a sigh. “Do you think you were torn?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” Brian snaps, frustrated. When Zack only stares, he says, “No lube, no prep, what do you think?”

Zack doesn’t answer, only sighs after a moment, but then wanders back across the room until he’s leaning on the bed next to Brian, hands spread out next to Brian’s thigh. Brian watches him warily, but then Zack says quietly, almost a whisper, “Look. I’ll keep you here for the rest of the day – I’ll just give Val some excuse. I get off at seven. I’ll take you back to my apartment with me – you can soak in the bath for a while, get something to eat, rest. And I can give you pills at home. We’re not allowed to give out prescription pain killers here – we get too many druggies – but you need some. So just – just stay, okay?”

“I have to work,” Brian says automatically.

“You’re kidding, right?” Zack says, raising an eyebrow. “The battered and bruised look bring in a lot of clientele?”

“You’d be surprised,” Brian answers. Zack just stares.

“Just stay, okay?” he says, almost pleading.

It’s those big, green, worried eyes that do Brian in. “Okay,” he relents.

“Okay,” Zack echoes. He steps back, squeezing Brian’s knee affectionately before turning away. He looks over his shoulder as he pulls the curtain open, and says, “Just lie back. Relax. I’ll ask Val to get you a glass of water and some Advil. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Brian nods, and with that, Zack turns to leave. He pulls the pen off of his clipboard, looks down at Brian’s file, and suddenly smiles. “Brian,” he says, quite obviously pleased by this discovery, and glances back in at him.

“Yeah. Brian,” Brian says, a small smile creeping across his face against. Zack finally closes the curtain, still smiling.

Brian puts his shirt back on, lies down as instructed, and listens as Zack’s footsteps move away, as another exam room curtain is pulled open, and as Zack’s kind voice speaks up again, just farther away.

Brian rubs a hand across his face, careful to avoid the blackening eye, and realizes that he has done a very stupid thing.

He can’t go down this road. Pretty Woman is not real life.

~*~

Brian waits to leave until Zack is in another exam room and Val is busy with another patient. He passes two other people in scrubs on his way out, but neither of them give him so much as a second glance.

He hobbles back down the sidewalk and to his alleyway, once again avoiding any concerned gazes thrown his way, and then collapses onto his couch once he’s there. He tries to sleep, but sleep won’t come.

He watches the darkness fall, watches as the two whores across the street walk up and lean against their wall. He looks at their fishnet stockings, shorts skirts, glittery pumps. He watches as a car pulls up and picks the taller one up, and watches as the short one is left leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

He suddenly wants a cigarette himself, but then again, his cigarettes are long gone with the rest of his things. He sighs, contemplates crossing the street and seeing if he can bum one off of the girl, and then decides it’s too much hassle to get up.

He tells himself that he’s going to go to his corner to work in just one minute, and then he tells himself this again, and again, and again…

He’s not sure what time it is when Zack suddenly appears. Brian is still watching the whores across the street – the short one got picked up, and now the tall one is back to leaning against the wall – when Zack’s solid figure suddenly wanders across the sidewalk in Brian’s line of vision. Brian watches him, watches as he looks around, watches as he runs an aggravated hand through his hair…

“Bri – uh, Gates?” Zack calls, though it’s half-hearted, as if he’s already decided that Brian isn’t there.

“You got a cigarette?!” Brian hollers back, and grins as Zack jumps in shock and begins looking around again. “I’m back here,” he yells, waving a hand around until Zack spots him.

“What are you doing back here?” Zack says, taking in Brian and the dirty couch and the smell of urine and vomit with a wrinkled nose.

“I’m sleeping,” Brian tells him.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping in a bed, not on someone’s trashed couch,” Zack says.

“This is a bed,” Brian counters. “It’s my bed.”

Brian watches as this information and all of its connotations hits Zack full across the face. He watches Zack collapse a bit on the inside.

“Don’t,” Brian says before Zack can even open his mouth. “Just don’t. Save your breath.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Zack says, “It’s going to be cold tonight. Down in the high thirties.” Brian hums noncommittally. “Do you at least have a blanket? Or a sweatshirt? Or something?”

“Don’t. I said don’t,” Brian snarls. It comes out with a lot more bite than he’d intended.

Zack’s quiet, watching him, green eyes a little off-color in the moonlight. “I’m trying to help you,” Zack says quietly. “Can’t you just let me? Help you?”

“Why me?” Brian counters. “There are thousands of homeless shits in this city. Go find someone who wants it. Or even better, deserves it.”

“There’s a big difference between a ‘homeless shit’,” Zack says, a mocking emphasis on Brian’s terminology, “and a good person stuck in a shitty situation.”

“And who’re you to judge?”

“I work in a walk-in clinic,” Zack replies. “I see a lot of ‘homeless shits’. I see a lot of druggies. I see a lot of gang members. I see a lot of people who have just thrown their lives away. But I don’t see a lot of good people.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then Brian spits, “You do realize that you don’t know me, right? And, I mean, why the hell are you even out here?! You seem like a nice enough guy. You’ve got an education, you’ve got a job. You’re good to people – hell, you work in a fucking free clinic!”

“Why are you here?” Zack counters.

“Up yours,” Brian says.

“You’re infuriating as all fuck, you know that?” Zack says.

“Yeah, because you’re a puddle of sunshine right now. I’m trying to fucking sleep!”

“Will you come back to my apartment and sleep there?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it does.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You’re in no physical condition to be out here tonight. I’m trying to help you so that I’ll be able to live with myself in the morning.”

“Oh, what a martyr.”

“You’re one to talk. You’re gonna stay out here and brave the elements on a bacteria infested couch just because you’re a son of a bitch who won’t accept a bed, a bath, or a meal…”

Brian sighs, closing his eyes. The prospect of an easy night is so good, but he knows he shouldn’t. He knows that he can’t do this, yet he still relents, “If I come with you, will you shut up?”

“Yeah. If you come with me, I will shut the hell up,” Zack replies, then smiles. The smile shakes Brian’s heart a little bit.

“Okay, let’s go,” Brian says, swinging himself up from the couch. The world promptly tilts sideways, and his stomach lurches. He leans over, but he hasn’t eaten all day, and he only dry heaves.

“You’ve probably got the concussion from hell,” Zack states once Brian’s stomach has settled. Brian can feel Zack’s hand rubbing slow circles on his back. He leans into it against his will. “You good?” Zack asks after a moment.

“Yeah. I think,” Brian says, and he stands a bit more carefully this time. Zack keeps a hand on his shoulder. “Car in its usual place?” he asks.

Zack laughs, that true and uninhibited kind of laugh, and Brian tries not to be enthralled by it. “How’d you know?” he asks, and Brian chuckles, letting Zack push him out and onto the sidewalk. The whore across the street looks on in interest.

“Thank you,” Zack tells him once they’re in the car. Brian thinks he’s joking until he looks over, sees the sincerity in his face.

“You are the strangest person I have ever met in my entire life,” Brian replies.

Zack just chuckles in response and keeps his eyes on the road.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Brian wonders if Zack had had friends over last night, or maybe Sunday night. He wonders if Zack’s friends know that he’s been fooling around with a whore. He wonders what Zack’s friends would think if they knew he was letting said whore crash at his apartment.~

It’s a fifteen minute drive from the parking garage to Zack’s apartment. They pass through and out of the slums, into the more homey area of downtown, and finally into the suburbia outskirts. It takes more time getting from the city to Zack’s apartment complex than it does to make it out of the city.

Brian’s never really been out of the city since he’s called it his home, and so the break from the urban chaos is new.

New, unexpected, and so nice it hurts.

Zack’s apartment is of the standard two bed, one bath variety, but what catches Brian’s attention is how comfortable it feels. There’s a relaxed, lived-in sort of atmosphere – if only walls could talk, Brian thinks – but the two Guitar Hero controllers propped haphazardly against the TV and the empties on the coffee table at least tell a recent story.

He wonders if Zack had had friends over last night, or maybe Sunday night. He wonders if Zack’s friends know that he’s been fooling around with a whore. He wonders what Zack’s friends would think if they knew he was letting said whore crash at his place for a night.

Brian decides to stop wondering.

“Here, just lie down on the couch for a few,” Zack says, snatching some empties up as he goes by. Brian collapses down onto the couch with a groan of pain that he tries not to let out. “Hang on,” Zack says, obviously having heard him anyway. Brian listens to him in the kitchen – glasses clinking, cabinets banging open and shut, the mechanical hum as the fridge door is opened. He can hear barking as well. He hopes he’s not hallucinating.

“You got a dog?” Brian calls.

“Clearly,” Zack says with a chuckle. Brian breathes a sigh of relief. “He’s a little fucker. He knows I’m home, which means he gets food, which means he acts like a lunatic.”

Brian smiles. “I’ve always liked dogs,” Brian tells him, looking up at Zack as the man comes back with two glasses of water.

“Here,” he says, handing one of the glasses to Brian. “Sit up before you drink,” he adds.

“Yes, mother,” Brian says, struggling up into a sitting position. Zack doesn’t answer – he’s already opened his bedroom door and disappeared. Brian takes a sip of the water.

The barking intensifies in both pitch and volume, and a little black puppy comes bouncing out of the bedroom, spinning back to whine expectantly at Zack, but then quickly realizes that Brian is there. With the new discovery, he trots over to Brian, sniffing at a leg of his jeans. Brian reaches down, grinning, and he’s met with a little, playful nip. He coos at the dog despite himself.

Zack appears again soon enough, grinning stupidly over at them both. “He likes you,” he says, sitting down on the coffee table and scratching the puppy’s back. He’s quickly met with more expectant whining, as well as affectionate licks to his hand. Zack ignores him momentarily, instead stretching a hand out to Brian.

Brian looks down at his little handful of pills, then raises an eyebrow at Zack.

“It’s just Oxycodone, and a Phenegren for your stomach,” he explains, pushing his hand out a bit further.

“Where’d you get them?” Brian asks, a little suspicious.

“Perks of knowing a hospital pharmacist,” Zack explains. Brian reluctantly extends his hand, takes the drugs from Zack. If figures if he’s going to die, at least it’ll be painless this way. “I try to keep some of the basics on hand for situations like these, considering that the clinic can’t carry them. Some patients clearly need them, though, regardless of clinic policy.”

Brian throws the pills in his mouth, and downs them with one drink of water. “So what?” he asks, wiping at his bottom lip. “You’re like a dealer? Or something?”

Zack chuckles, standing up and heading back for the kitchen. The puppy bounds along behind him. “I guess. A little bit. A selective dealer who doesn’t take money.” Brian laughs, letting his head loll back against the couch cushions.

The puppy starts up with an even higher-pitched, excited barking. Brian can hear Zack yell a few expletives, but then the barking dissolves into crunching and a bowl sliding across the tile.

“God, he’s an ass,” Zack says, reappearing to flop down into an overstuffed chair. “You can lie down, you know,” he adds.

And so Brian puts the water on the table and lies down against the couch cushions. He feels like he’s lying on one big, soft pillow. It’s so, so good.

“That stuff will knock you out,” Zack says after a moment, fishing the TV remote from somewhere on the chair under his ass. He starts flipping through channels, and Brian watches, a little enthralled. He can’t remember the last time he’s watched television. “So just, you know. Sleep when it hits you. Don’t be all stupid and try to stay awake.”

“What makes you think I’d do that?” Brian says, twisting his head around to look at Zack.

“ ‘Cause that just seems like something you’d do,” Zack says, smirking. And okay, maybe Zack is sort of right.

Brian watches as Zack settles in on some sort of medical programming, and after that, he drifts off without even realizing it.

~*~

“Hey. Hey, Brian…”

Brian opens his eyes, groggy, and moves his head to look up at Zack. Zack is leaning over him, a hand squeezing his forearm. He smiles when Brian looks up at him.

“You feeling any better?” Zack asks.

He has to actually stop and think about it, just because he doesn’t feel that bad anymore. The constant pain has dulled considerably, and he’s not nauseous at all. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, letting his eyes slide shut. “Yeah. Loads better.”

Zack chuckles. He doesn’t remove his hand from Brian’s arm. “Better living through chemicals,” Zack says, and Brian cracks an eye back open to see Zack’s sly grin. “You want anything? You hungry? Want to take a shower?” Zack asks.

“Nnn,” Brian grunts. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Sort of what I thought,” Zack says, tugging lightly on that arm. “I was about to go to bed. Come on.”

Brian allows himself to be pulled up and into a sitting position. “Where’re we going?” he asks.

“Bed,” Zack says, amusement obvious in his voice. “We’re going to bed.”

And there’s only one thing that Brian associates with a bed anymore. “Zack, I really…” He pauses, trailing off, because he can’t really say no, it’s his job. But he’s so tired, and there’s no way he’s letting anyone near his ass anytime soon. “Just, not all the way, okay? It just – you know. I’ll blow you, but…”

Brian shuts his mouth as he watches Zack’s face fall. “That’s not what I meant,” Zack says, voice level. Then, “What kind of person do you fucking think I am?”

Brian stares for what even he can recognize is too long, but he honestly doesn’t know the answer to that question. He’s not really sure about Zack. Hell, he’s not really sure about anything most of the time. He tells Zack as much, a moment of deep honesty that he’s almost ashamed of afterwards. Zack listens to him quietly, and he doesn’t respond, doesn’t give him any words to make life easier, more understandable.

He reaches out, though, and pulls Brian into a hug that isn’t dirty, isn’t sexual, isn’t any of the things that Brian has come to associate with being held by another person. Zack is gentle with him too, careful to avoid that bruise on his side, and Brian sags against him, too tired to be concerned about giving in.

While Zack doesn’t say a word, Brian hears ‘don’t worry’, and ‘it’s going to be okay’, and ‘I’m not going to hurt you’.

“Come on. Bed,” Zack says again as he pulls back, and Brian follows, changes into the clean t-shirt and boxers Zack gives him, and crawls under the covers, all quite willingly.

They don’t cuddle or even touch at all, but there is this comfort in knowing that Zack is there, a comfort in knowing that he’s not the only one sleeping in the bed, a comfort in knowing that he’s not alone tonight.

He’s asleep again before he even knows it.

~*~

When he wakes up, Zack is gone, but then Brian checks the alarm clock by the bed to find that it’s nearing eleven in the morning. The man’s gone to work, Brian realizes, and so he sinks back into the pillows and just lounges for a while.

He can’t help but wonder about Zack’s blind trust – hell, Brian could turn the place upside down and leave with every valuable the man owns. Not that he would ever even consider it. But Zack has basically just opened up his home so he can get robbed.

He wonders if this has ever gotten Zack stabbed in the back.

He dozes for a few more minutes before finally pushing himself out of bed. The little black puppy stares up at him from the floor, then follows him around the corner and to the bathroom.

Brian finds the note stuck on the bathroom mirror after he’s relieved himself and walked back over to the sink. He reads half of it while washing his hands, then reads the other half after he’s washed his face and inspected his black eye in the mirror.

Brian,

I left for work about a quarter till seven. Didn’t want to wake you up, so I figured you’d eventually find this.

There’re two more Oxycodone on the kitchen counter if you need them. Advil is there too. Take what you need. Water’s in the fridge, cups in the cabinet on the far right. Feel free to grab something to eat. In fact, please do. Help yourself.

I put clean towels by the shower, so please take one. Your clothes from yesterday are in the washer – you’ll have to take them out and throw them in the dryer once they’re done.

I want you to stay, but since I know you’ll leave anyway, please shut Ichabod up in my bedroom before you go. He’ll destroy everything if you leave him out.

\- Zacky

P.S. Ichabod is the dog.

“God, what a woman,” Brian tells his mirror-self. “The guy has a damn mommy complex,” he continues to mumble on his way down the hall and into the kitchen. True to word, there are two little white pills on the counter next to an Advil bottle. Brian pushes the Oxycodone back and out of the way, then takes four Advil instead.

He throws his clothes into the dryer as instructed, then goes back to the kitchen, downs another glass of water. He contemplates just leaving once his clothes are dry – he doesn’t need Zack’s sympathy or help – but then his eyes land on the loaf of bread by the toaster.

He feeds Ichabod the little burnt edges of his toast while he eats.

And he’s dirty – that’s undeniable – so he decides to take up Zack’s offer of a quick shower as well.

He leaves clean and fed, the pain dulled, the dog in the bedroom, and makes sure to lock the front door on his way out.

~*~

He doesn’t do well that night. Two guys pass through – they pull up by the curb, roll their window down, take one look at Brian’s swollen face, and then leave before Brian can get a word in.

And so he leans against the wall on his corner, smoking a cigarette that he’d bummed off of the girls across the street, and he’s not even surprised when Zack comes wandering down the sidewalk.

“I gave you the benefit of the doubt,” Zack says. “I checked my apartment first. Thanks for putting Ichy up.”

“Yeah,” Brian says casually. He isn’t going to make a move. He isn’t going to encourage this. He also realizes that Zack obviously doesn’t need encouragement.

“If I were to want to take you home for the whole night,” Zack says, leaning against the wall and effectively mimicking Brian’s body language, “what would the going rate be?”

Brian raises an eyebrow. “And you assume I do this sort of thing?”

“You did last night,” Zack points out. Brian groans in frustration.

“Look, Zack,” Brian says, “I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know why you’re doing this, or what you want, but you can’t…”

“You don’t know what I want?” Zack interrupts. Brian can tell that he’s trying to play sexy, coy. Brian just finds it amusing. “I want to take you home,” Zack says, “order a pizza, get you drunk, and fuck around a bit.”

Brian eyes him speculatively, but doesn’t answer.

“Would $500 work?” Zack asks. Brian laughs.

“Make it $300, and it’s a deal,” Brian relents.

And so Brian finds himself on his knees at around one in the morning, drunk off his ass, giving Zack a rather slobbery blowjob. It’s a lot easier when he’s this drunk, Brian realizes. It’s a lot easier to just suck and lick and spit, to not think about what he’s really doing, to enjoy it a little despite it all.

It’s especially easy to enjoy the quiet noises Zack makes in the back of his throat.

He goes all the way down, swallows around Zack’s dick, and this pulls off with a small ‘pop’. Zack makes an amazing sort of noise, and Brian jerks him, spits on his dick, then licks an obscene trail from base to slit.

He's not even slightly aware that he’s acting like a dirty, horny slut.

He goes back down, and Zack fists his hand in Brian’s hair, not pushing or pulling, just holding. Brian flicks his eyes up to look at Zack, and he finds Zack looking back down at him, sprawled out on the couch, legs spread open in the most wanton way Brian has ever seen. Brian can’t even help himself – he pulls off, dips his head, and licks up the crack of Zack’s ass and over that little puckered hole.

Zack curses spectacularly, and Ichabod barks back from the bedroom.

Zack laughs as Brian goes back to his dick. They still keep eye contact, green to brown, and Zack says, “Fuck, you are some sort of insane ridiculous.” Brian decides to take this as a compliment, and Zack adds, “God, you give good fucking head…”

Brian hums around his dick, something that is supposed to mean ‘damn straight’. Zack throws his head back against the couch cushions and goes back to making those little noises.

When Zack comes, Brian doesn’t swallow. Instead, he pulls off and playing with the semen in his mouth simply for show. Zack watches him with a pleased little smirk, and says, “You are obscene.”

Contrary to his words, he reaches a thumb out and wipes the come dribbling down Brian’s chin. He makes a show of licking the come from his finger, and Brian makes a show of tilting his head back and swallowing.

Brian absently rubs against Zack once he’s through, the friction of his denim jeans a little rough but still nice. He decides he’ll jerk off, and so he sits back on his rump, back falling against the coffee table. A few empties roll off, but he ignores them, goes about undoing his flies.

Zack slides down from the couch in one, easy motion, and then pushes Brian’s hands away quite pointedly. He pulls open the flies, pulls Brian out, and goes down without any preamble.

Brian’s first thoughts are ‘no’, and ‘wait’, and ‘what if?’, and ‘condom’. But then Zack is wet and hot and so fucking enthusiastic about the whole thing. Brian watches him for a moment, watches the way his mouth moves and the way his green eyes look as he meets Brian's gaze.

He gives in, twisting himself so he can lie down on the floor. Zack moves with him, crawls over him, goes and back to sucking him off.

The dog keeps barking, but neither of them even notice.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~There’s a tense silence, and then Brian dares to bring it up again. “If you’re so appalled at fucking hookers – and keep your mouth shut. You can deny it all day long, but you’ve got the pity shit going on. You’re obviously used to being in a relationship.~

Brian wakes up the next morning curled up under a downy comforter, stark naked.

He’s hungover as all hell, and of course, the fact that his forehead is already smashed up doesn’t help in the least.

He rolls over and up, a hand pressed to his upset stomach, and takes a look at the alarm clock by the bed. It reads 10:30 AM, and Brian twists to look behind him, to look at the other side of the bed.

Zack is lying on his side buried under the covers. He regards Brian through hazy green eyes, obviously not all the way awake. Or maybe just really hungover as well.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Brian asks.

“Mmm, no,” Zack replies, squirming under the covers. “I’ve got the day off.”

“Oh,” Brian says. He looks away after an awkward moment, glancing around on the floor for any signs of clothing. But then he remembers that they’d been fooling around in the living room, not the bedroom, so the clothes are probably out there. He stands up and heads for the door.

“Don’t go,” Zack says. When Brian turns back, Zack is still watching him. Zack meets his eyes for a moment before letting his eyes drop – first to the bruise, then lower. And while Brian is never self-conscious, he’s never really had anyone look at him like that – at least not when he was bruised, sick-looking, and pretty damn flaccid.

“I--” Brian starts, trying desperately to come up with an excuse for having to leave. He falls short and then finishes, “Got to take a piss. I’m coming back.”

“‘Kay,” Zack replies, then shuts his eyes. Brian shakes his head, agitated for a reason he can’t quite distinguish.

He heads to the bathroom, and Ichabod bounces along behind him.

Brian’s not sure how long he actually stays in the bathroom – he does what he’s there for, and then stands in front of the mirror to analyze himself. He picks at his disheveled hair, presses at the bruise on his forehead to affirm that it still hurts, bites at his chapped lips, and pulls at his nose ring. He thinks it might be beneficial to get a ‘Caution: Stupid Bastard’ sign to hang around his neck. Just so people would know at first glance. And so Zack could figure it out eventually.

Ichabod starts barking incessantly, which is why Brian’s already prepared when Zack leans around the corner with a quizzical expression and says, “I thought you were coming back.” Brian turns to give him a look - an ‘I’d really like to rip your head off’ sort of look mixed with an ‘I’d really like to make out with you’ sort of look. Zack raises his eyebrows and asks, “Everything okay?”

“No,” Brian says. “No, it’s not.” He heads out of the bathroom, shouldering his way past Zack. “I’m getting my clothes,” he says.

“Woah, woah, wait…” Zack says, and Brian can hear him bump against the wall behind him, then curse at the dog. Ichabod squeals indignantly. “Damn dog! Get out from under my feet!” Zack snarls, then in a softer tone, “Wait, man. Brian? What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t have fucking done that last night,” Brian hisses, grabbing boxers up from the floor and pulling them on. He hopes they’re actually his boxers.

“Wha--” Zack says, and Brian whirls around to find his shirt. He ends up with Zack’s, but doesn’t much care. Zack shifts uncomfortably, obviously trying to make the fact that he’s still naked less conspicuous. “We shouldn’t have, what? We shouldn’t have fooled around?”

“Not the way we did,” Brian says, then can’t help but take pity on the other guy. He grabs the other pair of boxers and tosses them in Zack’s direction. The guy fumbles to grab them, and then quickly goes about getting them on.

“What way?” Zack asks. Brian grabs a pair of jeans, realizes that they’re too new to be his, and drops them. He locates his on the other side of the coffee table.

“You’re a fucking medical dude!” Brian snaps. “Do you not fucking…? Holy shit, man. You realize that we didn’t use condoms, right? And you have no idea what I might have. I could be walking around with the fucking black plague!”

Zack’s silent for a moment, then says, “Uh, you didn’t use a condom before. The first two times you went down on me…”

“I don’t care about you!” Brian snaps, then regrets using those particular words as Zack shuts his mouth abruptly. “I mean,” Brian amends, “there’s a big fucking difference between me sucking your clean cock, and you sucking my diseased one…”

“You’re dick’s not…” Zack says, then groans in frustration. He suddenly whirls on Ichabod’s howling. “Would you shut the hell up?!” he yells, and Brian has never seen such an obvious attempt at an escape.

“This isn’t over,” Brian says, and Zack snaps his head back around to glare. “I had a guy shove it in with absolutely nothing,” Brian reminds him. “I don’t – I don’t like that.”

“Well, I’d think not,” Zack mocks. Brian ignores him, just plows on.

“That screams of shit going down. It’s fucking scary, dude! People don’t just do that without a reason,” Brian says. “And there’s a shitload of sick pervs out there. Sick in the head and sick in the dick…”

“But isn’t that part of the deal?” Zack asks, voice becoming more and more heated by the minute. “I mean, whores can have crazy nasty shit. But you sign on for that when you decide to fuck them. It’s a part of the whole thing.”

Though it’s not the first time Brian’s been called a whore – hell, he refers to himself as one – the way Zack says it breaks something, and breaks it hard. “Then why the hell are you fucking me?” Brian snarls.

“Did I ever say…?” Zack says, trailing off and scrubbing his hands over his face. “You want to know why the hell I’m fucking you?” he finally yells. “Right now? I have no idea.”

Brian’s silent, guts twisted, heart pounding. The only thing he can think to do is reach his hand out, palm up, and demand, “You owe me $300.”

It cuts Zack down hard, that much is obvious. Brian should feel a sadistic pleasure in it. He doesn’t.

Zack turns to go back to his bedroom, tripping over Ichabod and almost falling in the process. “Son of a bitch!” Zack yells, and Brian’s not sure if he’s talking to him or the dog. Zack comes back momentarily with three hundred dollars flat, proceeds to slap it into Brian’s chest, and says unfeelingly, “Let yourself out.”

“Gladly,” Brian says, and he’s gone before either of them can decide to back up and make it all okay again.

He walks to the corner to the seven-eleven, uses the pay phone to call a taxi, and is back in his alley before noon.

~*~

Brian normally pays very little attention to the time and days passing by. Every day is just another day. Every night is just another night. He gets more johns on the weekends, and that’s normally how he keeps track of things. His days are classified as ‘more johns’ and ‘less johns’.

Suddenly, though, he’s keeping track of time by Zack. It’s three days since Zack. It’s a week since Zack. It’s two weeks since Zack…

Three weeks since Zack, and Brian thinks he’s finally starting to lose what little bit of sanity he has left. Zack was just a john. A good john, yes. Easy money, kind to him, opened up his own home to him, but still a john. Just another man that walked into his corner for a while, and then left.

But alas, it’s still three weeks since Zack, and Brian is sitting on the pavement on his corner, enjoying the sunshine that has finally broken through a week of straight snow. It’s still damn cold - he has a sweatshirt on, a blanket wrapped around him, and he’s still freezing his ass off. But the wind has quieted and the snow is starting to melt away. The sun feels good on his face.

He’s smoking, half dozing really, when the girls from across the street come trotting over to him. He looks up at them, squinting his eyes against the sun, and is still as amazed as the first time he’d seen them during the day, not whoring. They look very normal in jeans and sweatshirts, no make-up, hair hanging down and natural.

He sometimes wonders if it’s easier as a woman – or at least easier to keep the two lives separate. They’re like this during the day, just two ordinary girls – but then tonight, they’ll be all make-up and glitter and overdone sex, just two more whores on the street. Brian is just Brian all the time – he has no glittery outfit or fishnet stocking or other ridiculousness to change into. He’s sitting on his corner now in jeans and a sweatshirt, and come tonight, he’ll be standing on the corner in the same jeans and the same sweatshirt. The only difference is tonight then he’ll be throwing dirty looks and coy glances, flouncing around and generally making a show of himself instead of relaxing on the sidewalk.

Gates may be a cover for him, but it’s not another character. Gates is still just Brian.

Gates looks up at the two girls, while Brian mourns for the three-week anniversary of no Zack.

“Yo!” the short one says, flopping down on the concrete next to him. She starts digging through her bag, explaining all the while, “We just got free donuts and coffee. We grabbed some extra for you…”

“What? Where?” Brian asks, accepting the coffee the tall one hands him. Neither of them answer his questions, so he just says, “You girls fucking rule.”

“Yeah, we know,” the short one says, producing two donuts wrapped in napkins from her bag, then handing them over. One is chocolate with sprinkles, a fact that makes Brian far too giddy.

The tall one grabs the cigarette out of his mouth as she sits down next to him, and the short one tucks in against him, pulling the corner of his blanket around herself. Brian eats his donuts and listens to them talk and share gossip.

Zack appears seemingly out of nowhere – or rather, from inside the bagel shop across the street – but Brian hadn’t seen him go by or go in. Their eyes meet, but Brian ducks his head after a moment, bringing his styrofoam coffee cup up to his mouth. He can’t see Zack this way, and between the two girls and the shade from the overhang, Brian’s pretty sure his face is hidden in shadow. It’s the perfect set up – Zack will walk away, and nothing will be any different.

Except that the tall girl suddenly perks up and points across the street, yelling, “Look! It’s Gates’ Sugar Daddy!”

“Fuck, you’re right,” the short one responds in turn, uncurling from her spot against Brian’s side. “Yo! Candyman!” she yells, waving her hand around frantically, and then yelps as Brian elbows her. “What?” she asks indignantly, glaring at him, but it’s too late. The damage has been done.

Brian looks back up in time to see Zack muttering a few words to a companion, then trotting across the street toward them. Said companion stays where he is, just moving to lean back against the wall, and looks on with an unamused expression. Brian wonders if he knows…

“It’s Gates’ Candyman!” the short girl repeats as Zack draws even with them. Zack looks down at Brian, and Brian looks back defiantly.

“Yeah,” Zack says, though he doesn’t sound very enthused. “Your face looks better.”

“Yeah,” Brian echoes, then, “I wish I could say the same for you.” Both girls swing their heads around to stare at Brian, and Zack’s face darkens. Brian stares back for a second, mouth hanging open, before apologizing. “I’m sorry, that – I dunno…”

“S’okay,” Zack replies, though his expression doesn’t quite match his words. An awkward silence settles before Zack says, “Well, I’ve got to get back to the clinic.”

“Okay,” Brian says. The whore to his right takes a drag off of his cigarette.

Zack nods, looking back across the street. His friend stares back quite pointedly, and Zack turns back to Brian. “I’ll come back,” he says quietly, and Brian just watches him. “Just – take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, great,” he says, even though it falls flat. “See ya.”

“Lovers’ spat,” the short girl says once Zack has crossed the street and once again joined his friend. Brian watches them walk away in the direction of the clinic.

“You’re so full of shit,” Brian tells her.

“Yeah, whatever,” she replies in a tone that Brian doesn’t like. “He’s a babe, and you know it.”

He turns his head to glare at her, but she doesn’t meet his gaze.

~*~

Zack comes back a week later, long enough for Brian to start rolling his eyes and cursing the guy out. Damn son of a bitch, lying bastard…

Not that Brian really wants him to come back, but it’d be nice if he could just follow up on his word.

But then he’s there that night, walking up to Brian on his corner. Brian watches him, embarrassment creeping up in his chest – he’d just gotten done with a john a few minutes ago, and he still smells like sex. It’s not as though Zack doesn’t understand, but…

He’s never been in a situation quite like this before.

“Hey,” Zack says. He’s bundled up in a big tacky jacket and fingerless gloves. Brian wants to laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Hey,” Brian replies. He leans against the wall, eyes trained to Zack’s. After far too long a silence, Brian asks, “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Come back to my car,” he says immediately, almost as though he’d been waiting for Brian to offer.

Brian shrugs, nods in the correct direction, and follows Zack down the block to the garage.

“Here,” Zack says as they step up to the little Hybrid. Brian watches as he opens up the trunk, digs through a duffle bag, and finally produces a little cardboard box. He hands it to Brian, and Brian frowns in confusion, turning it over so he can read the label.

His heart misses a beat when he realizes that it’s an HIV test.

“I just wanted you to have it. I figured you wouldn’t come back to the clinic, but you need to know. So just – there…” Zack says, motioning to the box.

“Okay,” Brian says, then adds, “Thanks.”

“Just doing my job,” Zack says, shrugging. He turns back to yank open the driver’s side door, and Brian watches him, watches the testing kit, watches Zack getting into his car…

“Wait,” Brian says before Zack gets a chance to shut the door. When Zack leans out of the car and looks back, Brian fumbles for an excuse. “Could you just – uh? How do I use this?”

Zack stares at him for a moment, gaze clearly saying ‘you are so full of shit’. And yeah, Brian is so full of shit. This is not the first test he’s ever taken. But Zack crawls back out of the car anyway, a rather put-upon sigh escaping his lips.

Zack does everything for Brian – he takes the test out of the package, makes sure it’s set correctly, and tilts Brian’s face and mouth up until he can push the test strip up against Brian’s gums.

Once he's finished, he hops up to sit on the trunk of his car, then lays the test down on his thigh. Brian watches it as though it may sprout fangs at any moment.

He doesn’t realize that Zack is talking until he’s halfway through the sentence. “…not fair to you,” Zack finishes, and Brian looks up to meet his gaze. Zack stares back for a moment, then says, “This isn’t something that I do, you know? It’s sort of a first. I don’t really know, you know, the ‘rules’.”

“What?” Brian asks. “What isn’t something you do? Show people how to take HIV tests?”

Zack chuckles weakly, then shakes his head. “No, that’s a norm,” Zack says. “I don’t usually, you know, go cruising the streets trying to find someone to fuck…”

The blush creeping across Zack’s cheeks is heavy enough to see in the dark parking garage, and while Zack doesn’t say as much, Brian can read between the lines. “You’ve never fucked a hooker before?” he asks. When Zack nods, Brian can’t help but chuckle. “I should have known,” he says. “That first time you came up to me, you were practically about to blow an aneurism.”

“Shut up,” Zack says, but he’s smiling all the while. “Actually,” he admits, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that nervous in my life.”

Brian shakes his head. “You’re from another planet,” Brian tells him, and Zack just chuckles in response. Zack glances down at the test, but it apparently hasn’t read yet. He sighs and bites at a lip ring, and Brian dares to ask, “Why’d you start?”

“Why’d I start what?” Zack asks, and Brian is pretty sure he’s just trying to avoid the subject.

“Why’d you come find me?” Brian asks. “Why’d you start fucking hookers in the first place?”

“I don’t fuck hookers,” Zack says, and Brian laughs. “I fuck a guy whom I happen to pay…”

“You are so full of shit,” Brian says, full out cackling. Zack shakes his head. “You’re fucking a hooker. Just own up to it. That’s what’s happening.”

“Fuck off,” Zack says, but it’s not playful. He sounds pissed. Really pissed. Brian’s laughter dies in his throat.

There’s a tense silence, and then Brian dares to bring it up again. “If you’re so appalled at fucking hookers – and keep your mouth shut. You can deny it all day long, but you’ve got the pity shit going on. You’re obviously used to being in a relationship. You’re right – you don’t know how this works. But I don’t need you to save me, so stop trying.”

Zack doesn’t answer. He just looks down, evading Brian’s gaze, and stays quiet. This only infuriates Brian, but then Zack finally opens his mouth to ask, “If this comes back negative, can we just go back to square one?”

“What’s square one?” Brian snaps. Zack still doesn’t meet his gaze. “What – what do you want from me?!”

“I just,” Zack says, “I just want to take you home at night. Just, you know, eat and fuck and sleep. Probably in that exact order…”

And Brian wants to say, If you want a fuck buddy, hit up a club. Or, If you’re lonely, have a friend stay over. Or, most importantly, Why me? But what he says is, “If that’s what you want, then – as long as you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I’m sure,” Zack says, smiling gently. “And we’ll be careful. That obviously makes you uncomfortable to not use protection for everything…”

“It should make you uncomfortable,” Brian scolds.

“I’ve had too many close calls in the clinic,” Zack says, shrugging. “If I’m going to get something, it’ll be from some creep who wanders in there.” A quiet pause. “This is negative, anyway,” Zack adds eventually, motioning to the test.

Brian sighs in heavy relief. It feels as though twenty pounds has been lifted from his shoulders.

“You’re fucking gorgeous when you smile like that,” Zack says.

Brian shakes his head and wants to tell him to shut up, wants to call him flaming for using the word ‘gorgeous’. Instead, he lets Zack reach out and pull him closer, lets Zack kiss the smile on his face.

“Come on,” Zack says once he’s pulled away. He hops off of the trunk and heads for the driver’s seat. “Let’s go home.”

“Yeah,” Brian says, moving to follow, to get in the passenger seat.

“Home.”


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Brian never forgets what he does. Zack makes him forget every day.~

Brian falls into a routine far too easily and far too quickly.

Zack picks Brian up every night at around eight. At first, Brian continues to stand on his corner for a good fifteen, twenty minutes before Zack comes to get him. After four days, though, he realizes that this is completely pointless, that no one comes by that early in the evening, and so he just starts meeting Zack at his car in the garage. It makes things simpler for everyone.

Zack doesn’t cook, though Brian’s not sure if he doesn’t know how, or if he’s just tired after working a twelve-hour shift. They usually stop and get take out on the way home. That, or they order a pizza and try to get a quick handjob in before the delivery guy comes.

And yeah, the handjobs are good. The blowjobs are good. The fucking is good. It’s all too good, and even though Brian argues with himself over it all on a daily basis, he can’t convince himself that he isn’t enjoying the set-up.

He starts picking up on Zack’s preferences, what he really likes and what doesn’t do much for him, and he does his best to keep Zack happy. Not that Zack ever complains. He never even tells Brian what he wants, never specifically tells him the things that he enjoys, but the guy is easy enough to read. He tells Brian plenty enough with body language – the way he breathes, the way he moves, those little noises that he makes when Brian does something especially good.

It’s those little noises in the back of Zack’s throat that drive Brian up the fucking wall, and he subconsciously files away everything that makes him do that. Brian quickly figures out that the more wanton, the better. And the more Brian enjoys it, the better.

Zack gets off on Brian getting off, and it’s possibly the most incredible thing in the world.

Zack has two days off every week – one on a weekday, and one on the weekend – the exact days change from week to week according to Zack. But he has Wednesdays and Sundays off for the first two weeks that Brian stays with him, and Brian comes to wholly love these days.

On these days, he stays with Zack all day long and helps him with those mundane things that no one in their right mind would actually enjoy. But Brian hasn’t had a carpet to vacuum in years, much less kitchen counters to clean or a shower to scrub. Zack occasionally tells him to stop acting like a maid, but mostly he leaves Brian be. Brian thinks Zack understands.

In fact, Zack seems to understand all of Brian’s idiosyncrasies in an alarming sort of way. Brian tries to keep to himself as much as possible, but finally gives up after a while. It’s practically impossible to keep things hidden when he’s practically living with the man.

He comes to this realization – the fact that he’s suddenly living with Zack – about two weeks in. Zack takes him back to his corner in the mornings on his way to the clinic, but then they go back to Zack’s apartment together at night. Brian tries to convince himself that the alley is still his home, that he’s not actually relying on Zack for food and shelter and stability…

Brian’s really good at convincing himself of the untrue, but even he can’t quite convince himself of this.

And he’s not even that surprised when Zack brings it up.

“You know,” Zack says that night. They’re curled up under the covers, post-coital, not quite cuddling, more just huddling together to stay warm. “You know, you should just stay here during the day,” Zack says. “I’m not sure why I always take you back there in the mornings. I guess it just sort of became a habit.”

“I can’t,” Brian says simply.

Zack gives him the look, the ‘why are you being an asshole?’ look. Brian’s become quite acquainted with this look. “Why not?” Zack counters innocently.

“Because I don’t live here,” Brian says. “This is your apartment.”

“Then I’ll rephrase it,” Zack amends after a moment, “I’m inviting you to stay at my apartment during the day.”

“Stop being an asshole,” Brian tells him, though there’s no bite there.

Zack rolls his eyes, but drops the subject anyway. Silence settles, and Zack eventually reaches out under the covers and runs a hand over Brian’s hip, eventually moving to cup the back of his thigh and pull gently. Brian lets Zack pull his leg over his hip, shifts a bit closer to accommodate the position. He presses his hips forward to see if Zack’s hard, to see if this is a subtle way of Zack asking for a round two. He’s not hard, though, and Zack chuckles gently.

“Cool it, ponyboy,” Zack says, and Brian can’t help but laugh.

“Ponyboy?” he asks sarcastically.

“Ponyboy,” Zack confirms, though Brian can hear the embarrassment tinting his voice. He hooks his thigh a little tighter around him, a silent way of saying that it’s okay. “Not sure I could get it up right now,” Zack adds after a moment. “M’sorry. I’m just sort of tired.”

“Don’t apologize,” Brian chides lightly, and then thinks vaguely that this conversation is riding the line of too close, too delicate. He opens his mouth to continue it regardless, “You were working all day.”

Zack chuckles in response, squeezes Brian thigh a little too affectionately.

“I think we’re cuddling,” Brian says eventually, then laughs at how stupid he sounds.

“Maybe,” Zack replies, laughing along with him. Brian thinks his laugh sounds tired.

“You off tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Zack answers, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’ve got Christmas Eve off. It’s unheard of, really.”

“What?” Brian asks, but then realizes that, “Holy shit, Christmas Eve is tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah,” Zack says, and his voice is a little off already. Brian waits for it. “I’m going to a party with some friends tomorrow night. It’s nothing big – just spending Christmas Eve together, know? You should come with me.”

“Don’t start that crap,” Brian hisses.

Zack’s silence is long enough that Brian thinks he’s actually let it go. But then, “You know something?” Zack asks. Brian glares. “Just because we – do this…” Zack starts.

“No, we don’t ‘do this’,” Brian interrupts. “We fuck. You pay me to fuck. We are not damn boyfriends. Hell, we aren’t even friends!”

Brian squirms away, unhooking his leg from around Zack’s waist, and Zack lets him go. Some part of him wants Zack to grab him and keep him where he is, and it’s that part of him that keeps him from leaving the room when Zack just rolls away.

“What?” Brian snarls, staring down at where Zack is lying on his back, his green eyes trained to the ceiling in a defeated sort of way. “What?” Brian repeats. “You gonna sit and sulk?”

“What--?” Zack starts, then lets his head loll to the side to meet Brian’s gaze. “Why? What have I done? Why do you fucking start this all the time?”

“Oh, now don’t go all self-pity on my ass,” Brian snaps.

This just makes Zack turn back to the ceiling, and Brian spends a few more seconds gawking angrily at him before turning to leave. He snatches his boxers (or rather, Zack’s boxers) up from the floor, and pulls them on as he stomps out into the living room. Ichabod lingers in the bedroom doorway, unsure whether he should stay with Zack or follow Brian, before he finally trots back into the bedroom to Zack.

Brian grabs a glass of water and plops himself down in front of the television. He channel hops for a while, eventually settling on some late night reruns, and he waits.

And waits, and waits…

Zack always comes back. This is how they operate. Brian cops a fit over Zack’s ridiculous behavior, and then Zack comes crawling back with half-hearted apologies. Or really, not even apologies, more just slight gives, words that make Brian feel better about the situation, words that give Brian a security that Zack isn’t expecting anything out of this.

Or at least, this is how it’s always been.

When thirty minutes have passed with no sign of Zack, Brian starts to consider leaving. His clothes are in the bedroom, though, and he really doesn’t want to go in there to see the sulking bastard. But after fifteen more minutes, he decides that sacrifices are sometimes necessary.

He finds Zack curled up on his side in the bed, Ichabod tucked into the curve of his belly. Zack’s eyes are closed, but Ichabod perks up as Brian enters the room. Zack moves a hand to rub at the puppy’s back, and Ichabod stays where he is, just watching Brian.

Brian finds himself rooted to the floor, not quite sure what the feeling is that’s creeping into his chest.

“Just go if you’re going to go,” Zack says after a few moments of silence. Brian doesn’t move. “I mean, of course I don’t want you to go. But I don’t know how many times I’ve said that, and you still have some sort of damn complex…”

“I’m sorry,” Brian blurts suddenly, and it’s so sincere it almost hurts. Zack opens his eyes finally, regards Brian a little guardedly. Pretty eyes, Brian thinks. Pretty boy…

“For what?” Zack asks, and he sounds like he’s trying to be testy. He’s too tired to pull it off, though. “For what? For putting me down? Or for me caring about you?”

“You don’t care about me,” Brian says.

Ichabod wiggles out of Zack’s arm and trots across the bed to sniff at Brian. Zack sighs. “Look. I don’t know what I have to do to get this into your head, but you’re a good guy. I like spending time with you. You’re a good friend, most of the time…”

“No,” Brian says.

Zack makes a noise, something between a groan and a sob, and flops over on the bed, back to Brian. Brian stares. “Go!” Zack says, and he sounds a bit hysterical, like he might be about to cry.

Brian wavers between the bed and the door, and finally says, “I’m not worth it. Don’t – just don’t do this to yourself.”

Zack doesn’t answer. Brian’s heart beats a frenzied staccato in his chest. Ichabod lies down at the foot of the bed, staring over at Zack with ears pricked in interest.

“Zack…” Brian says, moving to climb up onto the bed behind Zack. He puts a hand on Zack’s hip, looking down. Zack’s eyes are clenched shut, but he doesn’t try to throw Brian off. He’s shaking, though, and Brian starts to panic. “Zack, please, don’t… I’m not worth fucking crying over.”

“I’m not fucking crying!” Zack squawks, though the tone of his voice just makes it more obvious that he is. Brian tries to call him a pansy asshole, damn cry-baby, but all he can feel is this gut wrenching self-hatred.

“I’m sorry,” Brian says, and flops down behind Zack, spooning against him. He’s a little relieved when Zack doesn’t push him away. “I’m sorry. I’m a fucking jackass. I’m a bitch on wheels. I…” I don’t want to hurt you…

Zack’s silent at first, but then he says, “Bitch on wheels…” Brian can hear the watery smile in his voice. He breathes relief into the back of Zack’s neck. “I’ve got to remember that one.”

“Yeah,” Brian says, pressing his face a little harder against the back of his neck. He smells like sex. “’M sorry,” he says again.

“Don’t,” Zack says. “Just, just stay, okay? I like, you know, having you here.”

“Okay,” Brian says, then wonders what has just happened. He realizes on some subconscious level that Zack is slowly wrapping him around his finger. He reaches a hand out and presses it against Zack’s chest, then lets it slide lower, over the soft curve of his belly. He can feel Zack breathing.

Ichabod comes out of seemingly nowhere, crawling over Brian’s side and face-planting into Zack’s shoulder. It has both of them laughing, and Zack reaches to pick the dog up from where he’s climbing over his head. “You’re dumb,” Zack says, and Brian’s not sure who he’s talking to.

Zack is lonely, Brian suddenly realizes, and he pulls Zack a little closer. He’s not sure how he hasn’t realized this before now. It’s glaringly obvious. He lives alone (or used to), works a twelve hour shift five days a week, comes home to eat and sleep by himself (or used to), and even though he has two days a week off, Brian’s not sure where his friends fit into the equation. Brian hasn’t seen Zack go out with friends or bring friends back over to the apartment, but then again, he’s sure this is probably because Brian himself is there. Brian’s not sure what Zack’s norm is for his days off, but even if Brian weren’t around, things need to get done when Zack has time. Clothes don’t wash themselves. The fridge doesn’t restock itself. Yadda, yadda…

Brian wonders why Zack is apparently single. All the good ones are supposed to be taken.

And so Brian confirms quietly, “I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Zack replies, then sighs.

Thank you? Brian thinks. Then, I will never understand you…

~*~

It’s somehow silently understood that Brian is going out with Zack that night.

Christmas Eve day is spent at Zack’s, casual and comfortable. Brian cleans that morning, then naps on the couch for a while. Zack gets on the computer for a couple of hours, then goes about wrapping a few presents, and finally wakes Brian up with heated kisses against the back of his neck.

The fuck on the couch, Brian in Zack’s lap, and it’s as good as it always is. Brian sometimes struggles toward the end with keeping a rhythm and keeping his thighs from giving out – he’s not all that used to this position – but Zack is good with him. Zack keeps him supported – a hand on his hip and a hand on his stomach – and lets Brian lean back against him.

Brian really likes that part of it – leaning back flush against Zack, his head thrown back over Zack’s shoulder, body stretched up into a arc. Zack seems rather fond of it too – he mouths at Brian’s exposed throat and gives him hickies on his shoulders. Brian always holds on steady once he’s got him there. Zack’s mouth on his neck is one of the most amazing things in the world.

Zack hits the shower afterwards, and though it’s never discussed, Brian goes with him. They wash together, playfully fighting over shower space, and then they get out to shave together and brush their teeth together and get dressed together.

Brian realizes that they are far too comfortable with each other.

He also thinks that this is probably what being in a relationship is like.

Brian picks through Zack’s clothes until he finds something that looks alright on him. From there, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror and frets over himself. He looks okay, he guesses. He hasn’t done anything with his hair, but it hangs naturally as long as it’s clean. He’s a little pale and a little gaunt, too thin overall, but that’s been the standard for quite a while. The word ‘whore’ is not etched across his forehead.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were as vain as they come,” Zack says, and Brian looks over to find him leaning against the bathroom doorframe. Brian hopes he hasn’t been standing there too long.

“I’m not vain. I’m just gorgeous,” Brian tells him as he leaves the mirror be. Zack laughs, then turns and heads for the living room. Brian flips the bathroom light off before following Zack.

Brian grabs a jacket, Zack grabs his keys, and they leave the house a little after six.

It takes about a ten minute drive to the party, and Zack fills Brian in on the bits and pieces of ‘who’s who’ and ‘what’s what’. Apparently, the house party is at this huge place just outside of downtown. According to Zack, homeowner and entertainer ‘Jimmy Sullivan’ is all at once completely insane and ridiculously smart.

“He has more money than God,” Zack adds, and Brian laughs.

“What does he do? Where does he work?” Brian asks.

“He’s a pharmacist over at the hospital,” Zack says, and once Brian has connected the dots, he cracks up laughing.

“Holy shit, this is the pharmacist dude? Like, the pharmacist dude? Like, the supplier of the good shit?” Brian asks, grinning.

“Shut up!” Zack says, but he’s grinning as well. “You can’t say anything about that when we’re there, good? You’ll get a lot of us in a whole lot of trouble.”

“My lips are sealed,” Brian says, then can’t help but chuckle some more. “Haha, we’re going to hang out with your dealer…”

As it turns out, Jimmy is exactly as Zack had described him. He’s loud, obnoxious, and already drunk when Zack and Brian get to the front door. Brian thinks he might be the most entertaining thing in the entire world.

Zack seems to know the majority of the people there, but after a quick run through of what Brian can only assume are the ‘acquaintances’, they head out of the front hall and into a smaller, cozy den. A small group of people are already clustered around the coffee table playing cards and downing beer. The Charlie Brown Christmas movie plays on the television in the corner, but everyone is too busy talking and laughing to pay it any mind.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Zack says as he crashes into the middle of them all, and he proceeds to sit down on the floor by the couch while everyone shouts ‘hellos’ and ‘Merry Christmases’ back at him. Once Zack’s down, he reaches up and tugs Brian down beside him, and while Brian can’t say he’s completely comfortable in the midst of all these unfamiliar people, the way Zack presses his thigh subtly against Brian’s makes something quiet inside of him.

“This is my friend, Brian,” Zack introduces him, and while it’s a neutral introduction, Brian can tell that everyone there quickly comes to their own assumptions. He supposes Zack must be open about his sexuality. That, or it’s just utterly obvious.

Introductions are made all around from there – Johnny, Michelle, Leana, Jacoby, Branden, and the list goes on… Brian’s already lost about halfway through, but it’s Michelle who laughs and says, “And if you can remember all of that in one go, you’re way too good to be in this room.”

Brian smiles and accepts the Budweiser Zack hands him. “Glad to hear it,” Brian tells her, and she nods, motioning to one of the guys to deal her in next round. Brian wonders why she looks so damn familiar.

“Is Val here?” Zack asks.

“Mmm, no. Not yet,” she says, checking the bejeweled watch at her wrist. “She had to work today, but she said she was coming by once she gets off. About eight-thirty, nine…”

“And Matt’s coming?” Zack asks.

Michelle smirks and says, “Do I really need to answer that question?”

“Fair enough,” Zack says, then glances over to Brian. “Matt and Val have been dating since the dawn of time,” he explains, “and there’s still no ring in the deal.”

“And I’m going to kick his ass if one doesn’t appear in the coming year,” Michelle puts in, leaning forward to take her hand of cards from Johnny. As she leans over, Johnny’s eyes fall to her cleavage, but if she notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“So, you part of the family there?” Brian asks. “Val? Matt?”

“Val’s sister,” Zack supplies.

“Twins,” Michelle says. Then, “For future reference, I have the brown hair and she has the blond hair. If you can keep that straight, you’ll be flying.”

Brian laughs, and replies, “I’ll do my best.”

And it becomes oddly comfortable as time goes by. They talk, laugh, and gossip, and Zack’s friends seem to be the sort that naturally take to fresh faces and new voices. Brian doesn’t have to work to stay involved in the conversations that go by – everyone is quick to include him, and by some stretch of the imagination, they all seem to at least somewhat enjoy his company.

Val makes her entrance a little after nine, and the first thing she does is pounce onto Zack’s shoulders and demand, “I want to dance, and Matt’s being an asshole…”

Brian stares and tries to place her face. Somehow, she seems even more familiar than Michele.

“Are you going to be an asshole about it, too?” Val asks, mock-angry, as Zack struggles. She has a vice grip on the back of his shirt, though, and he eventually allows himself to be hauled up.

“It’s not my job to dance with you,” Zack complains, then looks down at Brian with a bit of a panicked expression. “I’m here with someone,” Zack finally says, and with that, Val stops short to whirl around and look.

It’s suddenly very quiet, and all eyes in the room are on Brian. His skin crawls nervously. “Hi,” he says, waving his hand, and he sounds and looks like a jackass, but whatever…

“Hey!” Val says, the word long and drawn out, and she abandons Zack in favor of flopping down onto the couch next to her sister, silently assessing Brian.

“Brian,” he says, extending his hand, and she takes it gracefully with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, then turns around to look at Zack. Brian wishes he could see her facial expression at that moment.

And suddenly, in thumps a big and unfortunately very familiar face. Brian shut his mouth suddenly, and looks up at Matt with an only half-concealed horrified expression.

Matt stares back at Brian, and then says, “Uh, why the hell is he here?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck… Brian thinks.

And once again, all eyes are on Brian, but Brian can’t formulate an answer.

“He’s a friend, man,” Zack says, looking a bit testy. Brian would find it cute that Zack was being defensive about him, but he’s too busy trying not to shit his pants.

There’s a tense silence, and then Matt looks quite pointedly at Zack. “A word, do you mind?” he asks.

Zack glares, then glances back at Brian as though unsure about leaving him. “Go,” Brian says quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Zack says, “if you’re sure.” Zack himself doesn’t really look sure about it, but Brian nods quickly. Zack follows Matt out, glancing back at Brian once before leaving the room. Brian immediately starts looking for an excuse to leave.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Val says with a frown, looking back at where her boyfriend has just left the room. No one answers her.

“So,” Michelle says, blatantly changing the subject. Brian meets her gaze, and with no subtlety, she asks, “Are you two friends? Or friends?”

“Michelle!” Val snaps.

“What?” she asks, turning to her sister. “Honest question.”

“Do you even need to ask?” Leana puts in.

“Friends,” Brian answers, voice flat.

Leana scoffs. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” she says. Johnny deals out another set, obviously ignoring the conversation, and Leana pauses to take her hand from him. “Zack screams of it, my dear. No need to try and cover it up,” she finishes.

“I’m glad to see him happy,” Michelle says. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like this in a while.”

“Yeah,” Val agrees. “It’s good for him. You’re good for him.”

“Uh, thanks,” Brian says, and suddenly has the urge to ask them what exactly they mean. He keeps his mouth shut, though, and sits uncomfortably through the silence.

Zack comes back a few minutes later, quite a bit paler than Brian’s used to seeing him. Brian sees his chance to escape.

“You okay, man?” Brian asks, feigning real concern. He’s a good actor. “You’re not looking so hot.”

“I’m not feeling so hot,” Zack says, and Brian groans internally. On the other hand, Zack’s not a very good actor. “Do you mind if we head home?”

“No, not at all,” Brian says, already pushing himself up from the floor.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Zack says, and everyone there shakes their head, telling him it’s okay and that they hope he feels better. With that, they go to head out the door.

Brian can hear Val’s voice on his way out. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m definitely missing something.”

Brian doesn’t bring it up on his way home, and neither does Zack. They ride home in silence, the sounds of the car engine almost deafening.

“I’m sorry,” Zack says quietly once they’re inside.

Brian throws his coat over the back of the couch and snaps, “Whatever. Forget about it.”

“No, I’m so fucking sorry,” Zack insists, and when Brian turns to meet those devastated green eyes, he almost gives in. Almost…

“The guy’s a fucking cop, and you knew that!” Brian snaps. “Do you know how many times that guy has carted me down to the station? Matt fucking Sanders. Mr. High and Mighty…”

“I didn’t know he patrolled there,” Zack interrupts. Brian sighs, rolls his eyes. “Brian, please…”

“I don’t care where you think he patrolled. The fact is, he’s a cop,” Brian says. “He could have carted me off right there.”

“He was off duty,” Zack tries, grasping at straws.

“Yeah, and you’re an asshole,” Brian says. He grabs at his hair. “I – I can’t do this right now. I’m going to bed…”

“Okay,” Zack says softly, which somehow only infuriates Brian more. He nods curtly, then stomps off to the bedroom. Ichabod comes bounding out as soon the door is opened, and Brian almost trips over him. He curses for good measure.

~*~

Brian’s not sure when he went to sleep – he was so on edge that he hadn’t even been sure he’d be able to – but he wakes up to a warm body behind him. He’s torn between guilt at being a moody, finger-pointing asshole, and that residual anger still burning.

Ever since Zack has come into his life, Brian has felt as though he is riding a rollercoaster. He’s getting tired of the ups and downs…

Brian shrugs away, about to turn over and tell Zack to get the hell off of him, but Zack lets him go without a fight. Brian turns over anyway, looks Zack in the eyes, and says, “What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m sorry,” Zack repeats, and Brian’s getting really tired of hearing that. “I didn’t mean – I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”

Brian’s only answer is a drawn out, exasperated sigh.

“You’re – you’re safe,” Zack says hesitantly. Brian meets his eyes. “Matt just, he told me what you did – I think he just thought I didn’t know. But he isn’t going to say anything. Not to the cops or any friends. He promised.”

“I don’t put much stock in promises anymore,” Brian says. “Seen one too many of them broken.”

Zack doesn’t answer.

“Doesn’t this bother you at all?” Brian finally asks. “I mean, now you’ve got a reputation…”

“Matt said he would say anything,” Zack interrupts. “And I trust him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Brian says, waving this aside as inconsequential. “But still, Matt knows and has judged you already. And don’t tell me he isn’t going to tell anyone. He’s got a girlfriend. Who has a sister. Yadda yadda. I know how this shit works.”

“I trust him,” Zack says again.

“Well, that makes one of us,” Brian says, but the fight is dying in him. He lets Zack lay a hand on his chest after a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Zack says again.

“Stop fucking apologizing,” Brian snaps with a little more bite than he’d intended. Zack watches him, eyes a bit wide. Brian shakes his head, then puts his hand on top of Zack’s, holding on lightly. “I’m more trouble than I’m worth,” he says eventually. “I’m waiting for you to figure that out.”

“You’ve said that before,” Zack answers. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Why?” Brian asks. He’s not really sure exactly what he’s asking.

Zack shrugs. Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn’t. “I like having you here,” he finally decides.

“You’ve said that before, and I still don’t believe you,” Brian mocks, and Zack rolls his eyes, pinches the skin on Brian’s chest. Brian squirms in an attempt to hide the fact that he’s ticklish.

“Can we just leave it?” Zack asks eventually. “Leave it like it is? Like this? Do we have to analyze it?”

Brian doesn’t answer.

“Brian?”

“Dude,” Brian says. “You’re the one putting a roof over my head and keeping me clean and fed. I don’t have the right to an opinion as far as this is concerned.”

Zack shakes his head. “You’re not just a prostitute, you know,” he says. “You’re still a human being.”

“Then it is what it is,” Brian says, mostly because this is obviously the answer Zack wants. Zack watches him a little warily. Pretty green eyes… “What happened to you?” Brian finally asks. He can’t help himself. “Why are you so fucking lonely that you’ve picked up a whore to keep as personal company? I don’t understand. You should, you know, have a guy here or something. A real guy…”

“I did,” Zack says, cutting Brian off. “It didn’t work.”

“Girls?” Brian asks.

“Pfft,” Zack says, and he grins for the first time since they’ve been home. It relieves the tension in Brian’s chest. “Girls?” he asks. “You’ve been having sex with me. What do you think?”

“Okay,” Brian says, chuckling. “Point taken.” A slight pause, then, “Why not someone else? There’s not only one fish in the sea. You deserve better than this.”

“You don’t understand,” Zack says, and Brian can tell that this is a subtle way of saying, ‘drop it.’

And so he does.

“I’m tired,” Zack says.

“Mmm,” Brian replies, repositioning himself while Zack curls a little closer.

Under the guise of huddling together for warmth, they cuddle quietly, Ichabod curled up at the foot of the bed. It’s quiet, comfortable, oddly domestic. He hates and loves Zack all at once for this.

Brian never forgets what he does.

Zack makes him forget every day.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Zack smiles, and Brian can see him blushing even in the dark. He reaches out to kiss Zack, even though he doesn’t kiss people. Zack is an exception.~

When Brian wakes up Christmas morning, he’s alone in Zack’s bed.

When he gets up, ventures out into the rest of the apartment, and realizes that Zack is gone, he begins to panic.

But then his brain catches up with his paranoia, and he realizes that Zack hadn’t said anything about having Christmas day off. People still get sick and hurt even on holidays – no rest for the weary, Brian thinks. And even if Zack wanted Brian out of the picture, it’s not as though Zack would be the one to leave. He’d politely show Brian to the door and shove him through it.

He spends the morning on the couch watching the holiday festivities on tv, and he doesn’t realize until around two in the afternoon that he is at Zack’s apartment. During the day. Without Zack there. When he should be at his alley.

Later, he won’t be able to pick out a reason for it. Pride. Fear. Stubbornness. Anger. They’re all viable and startling applicable.

He calls a taxi to take him back to his alley.

It’s not like Zack won’t come and get him once he realizes Brian’s left.

At least, this is what he tells himself.

He grabs a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store, and then sits on the sidewalk outside his alley and smokes. He watches the assortment of people walk by. He makes up stories about them in his head. He becomes increasing bored as the minutes tick by.

He’s used to sleeping during the majority of the day, then working at night. Somehow, though, this internal clock has been switched around. He sleeps late still, but not like he used to. And he has nothing to do now. Zack takes care of everything. All Brian can do is wait.

And wait he does. The streetlights flash on, and Brian waits. The sun fully sets, and Brian waits. The girls across the street walk out to their corner, and Brian waits…

He waits until a car pulls up to the curb and rolls down the window. One of his old regulars leans an arm on the doorframe and leers a Brian. He suddenly remembers how much he hates being looked at like that.

“Where you been, handsome?” the guy asks, and Brian wants to laugh. The guy’s middle-aged – a little dumpy with a receding hairline – and Brian wonders how he can’t know how cliché he sounds.

“Otherwise occupied,” Brian says, stubbing his cigarette out on the concrete next to him. He gets up even though he doesn’t want to, even though what he’s about to do is making him feel sick.

“Got room for some distraction?” the guy asks.

“Always,” Brian says, faking a cheeky grin. He crawls into the passenger seat, and they drive off.

He parks in a dirt lot a couple blocks down from Brian’s alley, and he fucks Brian there. He pushes the passenger seat back, and Brian splays himself down onto it, ass in the air, showing himself off like Zack likes.

“Little slut,” the guy says, and Brian suddenly remembers that this isn’t Zack. Zack doesn’t call him a slut. Or a whore. Or a dirty, naughty boy. No cheesy lines that these other guys have obviously picked up from one too many pornos.

The only thing that gets him through it, though, is Zack. He tries to keep Zack in his mind, to convince himself that he’s not actually doing this. But the guy doesn’t feel like Zack, doesn’t fuck him like Zack, doesn’t move or breathe or touch him like Zack…

He’s glad he’s facing down, away from the guy. He’s not sure the guy would appreciate being grimaced at the entire time.

It’s almost midnight when the guy drops him back off at his alley, and when Brian goes to let himself out of the car, he finds a handful of money in his face. $200 worth, precisely. Twice the pay. Like Zack.

“Merry Christmas,” the guy says, smiling like he thinks this will impress Brian. Brian flies off the handle – he can’t even help it.

“Merry Fucking Christmas, asshole. Glad you spent it with your family,” Brian snarls, then slams the door in his face.

He doesn’t look back to see the guy’s reaction. He just makes a beeline for his alley, for his couch.

His couch has been hauled away. Probably to the dumpster.

He paces his alley for a while. His skin is crawling. He feels sick. He’s dirty. He’s nasty. He’s worthless. He left Zack. He let someone else fuck him. He can’t live with himself…

Brian doesn’t cry. He is unbreakable. His life is what it is. You can’t knock him down.

Yet he eventually slumps down against the wall, presses his face into his hands, and swallows back the tears that he has no idea what to do with.

~*~

The girls find him the next morning. He’s sitting on the sidewalk where he always does, bundled up in the huge, tacky jacket of Zack’s that he left with the day before. He feels like shit.

“What happened to you last night?” the tall one says, looking down at him in concern.

“Hell, what has happened to you this entire month?” the short one amends.

“Stupidity,” Brian answers. He bangs his head backwards against the wall. “Stupidity happened.”

“It has to do with Sugar Daddy, doesn’t it?” the short one says, flopping down beside him. She leans her head on his shoulder.

Brian doesn’t answer.

“S’okay,” the tall one says. “It happened to me one time. You think you’ve found a way out, someone to ‘save you’, you know. Or whatever. At least think you’ve found something real.” She pauses, and Brian can tell that whatever has happened to her is still weighing on her shoulders. Her hair blows a bit in the breeze. “And then he just never shows up again,” she finishes, and shrugs.

“Stupidity,” Brian repeats, because on some deep level, he knows Zack won’t leave him.

At least, he won’t leave Brian if Brian won’t leave him.

“You’ll get back on your feet eventually,” the short one says. She wraps a delicate hand around his arm and squeezes it gently, supportive. It’s an oddly Zack sort of move. Brian wants to cry some more.

The girls settle in doing what they do best: talking about nonsense. Brian imagines taking them both hostage, hi-jacking a car, and heading to Mexico. They could be each other’s company and wile their days away serving fruity drinks on the beach. It’d be an awesome set-up.

Except Zack…

The girls eventually get up, announcing they’re hungry. They ask Brian to come with them, but he declines. He tells them he’s not hungry, which isn’t a complete lie.

Mostly, though, he’s beginning to realize that Zack maybe does have him wrapped around his little finger. That maybe he should just do what Zack wants. Just leave it be. He’s been happy, even if he’s denied it everyday. Zack makes him happy.

He likes Zack. Maybe not like likes him. It’s not love, or romance, or forevers. But Zack is a friend. He makes Brian smile. He gives Brian security. He makes Brian think things that he knows he shouldn’t, but loves anyway.

He wonders what Zack had done when he’d gotten home Christmas night to find Brian gone. Brian’s hurt him, that much he can figure out. He wonders if Zack has finally given up. Hell, Brian sort of hopes he has. It’d be better for the guy. Maybe he’d finally get some peace of mind.

Except Brian’s heart is somewhere else.

Precisely, it’s three blocks down at the clinic on the corner.

He has to do something. He just doesn’t know what. Or how.

He gets up, and he starts walking.

~*~

The clock on the wall reads five fifteen when he steps into the clinic. Val is at the front desk, a chart laid out on the table in front of her. Zack stands next to her staring down at the chart. He’s absently twirling a syringe around in his hand. Brian wonders if there’s an actual needle on the end of that.

“I don’t like the record,” Zack says, pointing to something on the chart. “The whole thing is sketchy.”

“No, I hear you,” Val says, then happens to glance up and see Brian. “Hey!” she says, her face brightening up instantly. “Brian’s here,” Val tells Zack needlessly. He’s already looking over.

His expression is cold as ice.

“Hey,” Brian says. He has no idea what else to say, Val’s presence aside.

“I’m working,” Zack tells him quite plainly. In simpler terms, this means ‘get the fuck out’.

“Oh, come on,” Val says, rolling her eyes. “You get off in, what – and hour and some?”

“I’ll wait, it’s okay,” Brian says quickly.

“Just go, Zack. You’re covered here. It’s been quiet anyway,” Val says. She turns her attention to Brian. “Take him out to dinner or something. He needs to get out.”

“Val…” Zack says, cutting his eyes over to her.

“What?” she says, looking at him in exasperation. “This conversation is over,” Val finally decides. “You’re leaving,” she says, and promptly pushes Zack toward the door. “Have a good time,” she tells him, and then heads into the back toward the exam rooms.

Zack glares at Brian.

“Please,” Brian says. “I just want to talk. I dunno – I just – I dunno…”

“I don’t want to talk,” Zack says simply. “As far as I’m concerned, this is over.”

“No, please,” Brian says, but Zack’s already headed for the door. “Just, please. Just give me a chance.”

“I’ve given you millions of chances,” Zack says. Then, “You left on fucking Christmas, you realize that? Not only did you leave after you promised me that you wouldn’t, but you left on fucking Christmas…”

“I’m sorry,” Brian says, but Zack’s already walked out the door. Brian panics, and then hits the door after him.

Brian trots after him, begging and pleading, apologizing with every breath, unsure of what else to do. He doesn’t find the right words until they’re all the way to the parking garage.

Zack’s fishing his keys out of the pocket of his scrubs with Brian suddenly blurts, “I – fuck, I want to be with you. You’ve – I haven’t been this happy in my entire life. You make me smile. You make me happy. You give me a fucking reason to get up in the morning. And I know that I’m a dirty piece of shit that you picked up on the side of the street, and I know you don’t really care about me. But I’ll give you company. I’ll stay, I promise. I really promise.”

Zack pauses with his keys in his hand. He doesn’t go the click the unlock button. He finally says, “Don’t call yourself that. It’s degrading.”

“What?” Brian says.

“You’re not a dirty piece of shit,” Zack says. He doesn’t turn around. He stays facing the car. Brian fidgets behind him.

“It’s the truth” he says, and then for some reason blurts, “I whored again last night. After everything. I was waiting for you, and then the guy pulled up, and I just – I knew you were already gone.”

“Then why are you here?” Zack asks.

“Because,” Brian says, and realizes he’s not really sure. He just – “Wasn’t ready to give up,” he answers.

Zack doesn’t say anything.

“I was stupid,” Brian says. “It was just – I haven’t been treated like this in forever. And I know I don’t deserve it from you, especially after everything I’ve done to you, and I know I’m being selfish for wanting it. But you treat me like you actually care about me or something. You don’t call me a slut or a whore, and hell, you put a roof over my head for no reason whatsoever that I can figure out. And you’ve never pushed me around or slapped me around…”

“I would never fucking do that to you,” Zack interrupts immediately, and there is such force in his voice that Brian doesn’t even know what to say. “You don’t touch someone to hurt them. I would never…”

“I know,” Brian says. “I know.”

Zack turns slowly, looking up at Brian with an expression that Brian can’t even place.

“Your eyes.” Brian says. Then, “I don’t even know…”

Zack closes the distance and wraps his arms around him. He presses his face into the side of Brian’s neck, and Brian can feel him breathing. Brian brings his arms around him too, one across the back of his neck and shoulders, the other across the small of his back. He holds on so tight that he might be hurting him, but Zack doesn’t say anything. He just presses closer, holds on just as tight.

“I should have realized,” Zack says eventually, voice muffled against Brian’s skin. “After everything you’ve – I should have known you’d fight me every step of the way. I just started to think that you wanted away, wanted out. But after everything – I don’t even want to know what you’ve been through. I’m not sure I could handle it.”

Zack raises his head at that, pulling at Brian’s neck, and Brian can take a hint. He’s quick to kiss, quick to let Zack suck on his bottom lip and lick into his mouth. He tilts his head to the side and cups Zack’s cheek in his hand…

“Excuse me,” someone says, and Brian jerks away to find a woman looking at them. She has a purse on her arm and a disgusted look on her face.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Zack tells her, then unlocks the car. He diverts his attention to Brian. “Come on, let’s go home,” he says casually.

Brian smirks at the woman, then moves to the passenger side.

“God, I hate people like that,” Zack says before Brian shuts his door. The woman snaps her head around at them, and Brian promptly shuts the door.

“You put her in her place,” Brian says. “You did good.”

Zack starts the engine, then glances over as Brian buckles himself in. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” Zack says quite plainly.

Brian grins, mostly because Zack’s voice is honest and not for show. That, and it makes heat curl low in Brian’s stomach.

“Get me home,” Brian says, stretching out a bit in his seat because Zack will probably like this. Zack watches him and obviously does. “Get me home,” Brian repeats, “and I’m all yours.”

~*~

“You like to watch, don’t you?” Brian asks.

He’s sprawled out on his back, head cushioned on a pillow, his legs spread out as far as he can get them. Zack’s rocked back on his haunches, legs tucked underneath him. He has two slick fingers curled inside of Brian, relentlessly rubbing at that spot, and he hasn’t taken his eyes off of those fingers since he’s started.

He flicks his eyes up to Brian’s face with that, though, and grins a dirty little smile before he twists his fingers even harder. Brian grunts, and his hips curl up toward his belly against his will. He’s so fucking hard, and his stomach is wet with precome, and he wants…

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he finally moans, “just get on with it…”

“What’d you want?” Zack asks innocently. Brian glares for a moment before his eyes drop to Zack’s cock. He’s hard as all hell too.

“Do you need a written invitation?” Brian snaps. Zack grins, twists his fingers again. “Fuck me,” he finally groans, because being wanton is apparently the only way he’s going to get what he wants.

Not as though he minds as far as Zack is concerned. Brian’s grown to love wanton as much as Zack does.

“Fuck me,” he repeats, and moves his legs to push his heels against the small of Zack’s back. Zack laughs. It’s breathless and sexy.

Zack eases his fingers out slowly, rubbing his fingers against him as he squirms at the emptiness. “I know,” he mumbles quietly, moving over Brian to grab the condom off of the nightstand. He presses a wet kiss to the side of Brian’s neck before he slides back down to sit between Brian’s legs.

Brian watches with hazy eyes as he rolls on the condom and slicks himself up. He runs more lube against Brian before tossing the bottle away and hitching Brian’s legs up and around his waist. He lines himself up and pushes in slow, eyes watching himself as he sinks in. Brian watches his face, eventually lifting his hips a bit until the angle’s better. Zack eases back a fraction of an inch and then slides in balls deep. Brian sighs.

Zack raises his eyes to meet Brian’s face, and Brian gives him a dirty little smirk. “You like to watch,” Brian says, a statement this time rather than a question. Zack chuckles, and then makes a little ‘mmm’ sort of noise. He slides his hands down Brian’s thighs, then back up.

“You good?” Zack asks, pulling Brian’s hips a little higher.

“Better than good,” Brian answers. A stretches up until he hands knock against the headboard, then relaxes again.

“Yeah,” Zack says, and starts an easy rhythm, rocking against him, rocking into him. Brian lets Zack hold his hips and keep the angle. He holds onto the bedsheets on either side of him, and watches Zack, watches the way he moves, watches the look on his face.

Zack eventually leans down over him, resting his forearms on either side of Brian’s body. Brian moves his hands to hold onto Zack’s shoulder blades, hooks his legs a little higher around Zack’s waist to accommodate the new position. Zack pulls back and slides home right against Brian’s prostate, and Brian’s body arches and trembles as he stays there against him. Zack leans down to kiss, and Brian shakily reciprocates.

Zack gives a breathy chuckle as he pulls back and starts a rhythm again. Brian lets his head loll to the side and closes his eyes. “That feels good?” Zack asks, like Brian’s going to say no or something…

“Fuck, yeah,” Brian mumbles. He lets his head loll to the other side and keeps eyes contact with Zack.

He doesn’t last long after that. Zack’s belly rubs against his cock with each thrust, and he’s eventually holding onto the small of Zack’s back and thrusting against him as much as Zack is thrusting into him.

When Brian arches up off the bed and starts cursing, Zack holds still and lets Brian rubs his orgasm out against his belly. He comes hard, so good it’s almost painful, and as he relaxes back into the bed, he’s so spent he’s not sure he could even move.

Zack pulls out slowly, pushing his fingers against him and rubbing once he’s out. Brian’s never had anyone do this to him before. It eases that unpleasant, empty feeling. Zack does it every time.

Zack pulls the condom off and lobs it at the trashcan, then sidles closer to Brian and jerks himself off over Brian’s belly. Brian watches, watches the way his thighs shake as he comes, watches the way he comes into his hand, watches the way his semen drips down onto Brian’s belly. He slides his hand through the come streaked there, and says, “Fuck, yeah.”

Zack smiles, eyes a little glazed over, obviously still coming down from his orgasm. Brian reaches up and pulls him down to kiss. It’s lazy and languid, and Brian could do this forever.

Later, after they’ve cleaned up and curled together under the covers, Zack says, “You’ve never been like that before.”

“What?” Brian asks.

“You were like – I dunno,” Zack says. “You were completely and utterly out of it.”

Brian twists in the bed so he can better look at Zack. Zack meets his gaze with those green eyes. “Your eyes, man,” Brian says. “They drive me fucking insane.”

Zack smiles, and Brian can see him blushing even in the dark. He reaches out to kiss Zack, even though he doesn’t kiss people.

Zack is an exception.

When he goes to pull away, Zack follows him and doesn’t let him go. Brian gets uncomfortable almost immediately, but maybe Zack understand. He lets him go easily. “You hungry?” Zack asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” Brian answers. “Pretty much.”

“We’ll order a pizza,” Zack says, rolling over and up from the bed. Brian stares at his naked ass before Zack pulls his boxers on.

“Do they even deliver at this time of night?” Brian asks.

Zack glances at the clock. “It’s only nine,” Zack says.

“Oh,” he says. “It feels later.”

“You’re just tired,” Zack says. “Judging by the bags under your eyes, I’m going to say you didn’t sleep much while you were on your solo escapade.”

Brian doesn’t say anything, he just swings up out of bed and puts his boxers on. He can see Zack staring at his ass out of his peripheral.

“You want your usual?” Zack asks.

“Yeah,” Brian says with a smile. “Yeah the usual.”

Zack opens the bedroom door, and Ichabod comes trotting in from the hall. Instead of following Zack, he makes a running leap for the bed and wags his tail at Brian. It’s almost like some sort of acceptance.

“Hey, pup,” he says, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and reaching over to pull the puppy into his lap. Ichabod wags his tail, sniffs at Brian’s stomach, and then starts licking him. Brian squirms and giggles, ticklish, and then realizes what had just been on his stomach some minutes prior.

“Yuck!” he says, snatching the dog up and putting him on the floor. “Yuck, dog!”

Ichabod stares up at him innocently, oblivious.

“Yucky dog,” Brian repeats as he gets up again, and head into the hall. Ichabod trots along behind him. “Your dog’s a pervert,” Brian tells Zack once he hits the kitchen.

“I don’t even want to know,” Zack says, hanging up the phone. “So don’t tell me what he was doing.”

Brian just laughs, and thinks that he’d like to close the distance and hug Zack. Then decides that maybe he’ll let himself do just that.

Zack sighs and leans back against him, and Brian rests his head on Zack’s shoulder.

Yes, Brian thinks. Yes.


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~They cuddle. Brian will admit it. It’s taken him a full month to admit it, but they cuddle. ~ Maybe in another month, he’ll admit just how much he likes it.~

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Zack says.

It’s a couple of days after New Years, late in the evening, and they’ve ended up where they always seem to end up – in bed, under the covers, naked and spent from sex. They’re spooning, Zack’s back tucked into the curve of Brian’s chest and stomach, Brian’s arm thrown across Zack’s side. Zack runs his fingers lazily up Brian’s forearm, tracing the designs spread across his skin.

“Right back at ya,” Brian says, and smiles against the back of Zack’s neck. “I didn’t know they let nurses get tattoos.”

“Pfft,” Zack says. “There’s no handbook to how you’re supposed to look,” he pauses, “except, you know, scrubs.”

“Yeah,” Brian says. Zack continues to trace lines on Brian’s arm. His touch is just light enough to send shivers up Brian’s spine. “And I guess they aren’t going to turn workers away from a free clinic…” he muses.

“So, so true,” Zack says. Then, “Where’d you get all these? And if you got them on the streets, please just lie…”

Brian laughs. “I got most of them when I was younger,” he says truthfully. “Before all of this. My dad took me whenever I wanted one when I was in highschool. He’d sign for me and shit.”

“That’s nice,” Zack says. “I had to wait until I was eighteen. Parents wouldn’t let me. I was raised Catholic.”

Brian can’t help but laugh. “Every once and a while, I look at those tattoos on your arm while we’re fucking and feel hella guilty,” he says, then, “Bible study didn’t take?”

“Shut up,” Zack says, but he’s laughing. He stretches that arm out and looks the religious tattoos over. Brian wonders where he’d gotten them done – they’re nice. “I got these when I was still in my denial phase,” Zack says, which only makes Brian laugh more. “What? Stop laughing!” Zack squawks, but as he rolls over on his back, he’s grinning wide. Brian keeps laughing.

“Denial…” he drawls, rolling his eyes. “Denial doesn’t exist.”

“Bullshit,” Zack says, still laughing. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t exist. I went my two first years of college with nothing, just because I didn’t want to take that huge jump from girls to guys, know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Brian says, grinning. He reaches a hand out absently and lays it down on Zack’s cheek. Zack moves just enough to nip at the underside of his knuckles, and Brian curls his fingers a bit.

“So, what?” Zack says after a moment. “You just knew? You just popped out of the womb and said, ‘Yo, guys, I’m gay!’”

Brian cracks up. “Naw, I guess my parents were just really open-minded,” he says. “Maybe too open-minded, I don’t know. I fooled around with guys and girls back then. And my parents totally knew – not that I ever said anything – but they knew. They’d make snarky comments all the time, but I never got in trouble.” He grins, thinking back on it. “Good times, good times…”

“Sounds like they’re good to you,” Zack says, and he turns those green, inquisitive eyes up to meet Brian’s gaze. Brian can tell he’s digging, and Brian can feel himself getting defensive.

He bites snappish words back and just doesn’t answer.

“Where’re they now?” Zack asks. “I mean, if you’re dad took you out all the time – you know? It just sounds like you’re close to them.”

“And so what you’re really asking is – why the hell are they letting me spread my legs on the streets for money?” Brian says, scowling. And he knows Zack didn’t mean anything by it, he knows. He just supposes old habits, as well as bad attitudes, die hard.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay,” Zack says quickly, and Brian watches as he retreats into himself a tiny bit. He feels guilty almost immediately. Or maybe he’s just really tired of keeping this hidden, really tired of not talking about. Maybe he wants to talk about it. Except he really doesn’t.

“You don’t want to know,” Brian says eventually. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Zack says quietly. “We’ve got time.”

“It’s not your problem to deal with,” Brian says. “You deal with all of my other problems. You don’t need this one.”

“Okay,” Zack says, and Brian suddenly wishes the guy wasn’t so accommodating and non-confrontational. “Just, if you ever need to vent or unload or whatever…”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good,” Zack says. He tucks in closer to Brian again, curling up against him.

They cuddle. Brian will admit it. It’s taken him a full month to admit it, but they cuddle.

Maybe in another month, he’ll admit just how much he likes it.

~*~

Zack goes to work the next morning, and Brian goes about his daily routine. He showers and feeds the dog, grabs something to eat himself and plays solitaire on the computer for a while. He does a load of laundry, empties the dishwasher, and vacuums the floor. He eats again, watches tv, and plays with Ichabod.

Except on this morning, Brian thinks about his parents the entire day. He thinks about Zack the entire day. He wonders what the hell has happened to himself, and why he’s deserved any of this, the bad or the good.

He’s in a heavy state of depression when Zack hits the door. Brian gives him a forced grin from where he’s lying on the couch in the dark, the only light coming from the television screen. He’s been watching a Lifetime movie, which is probably not the best thing he could be watching for his own peace of mind, but whatever…

“What, I forget to pay the power bill?” Zack asks jokingly, and flips the lightswitch on as he goes by. Brian winces at the sudden brightness, and doesn’t answer.

Zack lays his keys down on the kitchen counter, gets a glass of water, and coos over the dog. Brian sits and stares at the television. He hears Zack start talking about something, but doesn’t process a single word.

“…and I was just like, ‘are you serious, woman?’ Guh!” Zack finishes, and Brian looks up from the couch at him. He’s pulled his scrub top off – the blue medical material hanging over his arm – but he’s still wearing the t-shirt from underneath. The shirt is a little too clingy, and there’s a stain on the hem that could be vomit or blood or urine, that could be fresh from today or a leftover stain that hadn’t come out in the washer. His septum ring is crooked and leaning too far to the right. He’s pale and obviously exhausted.

He might be the most beautiful thing Brian has ever seen.

“You okay man?” Zack asks, frowning down at Brian.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Brian says. Zack narrows his eyes, unimpressed by the lie. Brian changes the subject to one of the many things he’s suddenly been wondering about. “Remember that day I came into the clinic?” Brian asks. “When that guy had thrown me up against the wall and shit? And my head was all black and blue?”

Zack nods, still frowning. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says.

“And you brought me back here to give me pain meds? You said you couldn’t give them out there because of the druggies?” Brian continues. Zack continues to nod. “Why did you--?” Brian starts. “How did you know that I wasn’t a druggie?”

“Because you didn’t ask for any meds when you were there,” Zack says as though this is completely obvious. Brian supposes this is sound logic. He turns back to the television and chews at his bottom lip.

“You haven’t brought anyone else back here,” Brian points out. “To, you know, gives them meds.”

Zack’s quiet for a moment, and then says, “I normally don’t bring them back here.” Brian looks up at him again, a little disbelieving and a little shocked. Zack continues, “I usually take them to the clinic the next day, and tell them to meet me there. It’s a little more risky as far as getting caught, but I don’t really want a lot of them knowing where I live.”

“Then why me?” is the only thing Brian can come up with. Then, “Was it because you’d been fucking me?”

Zack’s quiet again, and then admits, “That was part of it.”

Brian groans. “You act like you fucking owe me something,” Brian snaps. “You don’t – you were paying me out the ass at that time. And now you’re letting me live here like I’m a roommate or something. And I don’t contribute to the pay at all…”

“I did owe you,” Zack says. “I owed you protection…”

“It is not your job to protect me!” Brian says. He’s almost squalling, and he recognizes this. He doesn’t really care. “Just because you’d been fucking me didn’t make it your job to…”

“It wasn’t – the sex really wasn’t,” Zack pauses, trying to find the words. “I’m not sure you realized how bad you were at the time. In fact, I know you didn’t. You were white as a fucking sheet and wobbling around on the exam bed. You had no sense of balance whatsoever. And your speech was a little off, like you might have had a seizure and hadn’t completely come around. And the muscles in your chest kept spasming, which is a textbook sign of neurological trauma…” He trails off, and Brian can only stare. “I kept praying the actual doctor would get back,” Zack continues. “I mean, I’m trained to handle that sort of thing, but not like an actual M.D. is. I kept waiting for you to go down, to pass out or have a seizure or something. I figured it was inevitable. And I’m not even sure how you got yourself down to the clinic, much less pushed yourself all the way back to that corner. When I realized you were gone, I was already prepared to call 911 when I found you. If you’d even made it back…”

Brian’s silent. He has no idea what to say or think.

“That’s mostly why I brought you back here,” Zack finishes. “I wanted to be there in case you took a turn for the worse. But you pulled through – I still have no idea how, but… I guess you’re just a fighter. When you were okay that next morning, I knew you’d be okay by yourself – it’d been long enough. If you were going to have major problems you’d have had them by then. So I let you be. But--” he pauses. “You fucking scared me, man.”

“I’m sorry,” Brian says automatically.

“Not your fault,” Zack says. “I’m just glad you’re up and walking and talking. Not in a hospital somewhere.”

“You came for sex the very next night,” Brian points out, suddenly a little annoyed.

“No, I didn’t really – I just wanted you off the streets. You didn’t need to be out there in the cold. And I knew the only way I could get you back here was if you felt like you were doing your job,” Zack says.

Brian wants to argue, except he knows Zack is right.

“And hey, somewhat underrated fact,” Zack adds, a small grin on his face. “Orgasms are good for you. Your body releases endorphins when you get off – eases pain and puts you to sleep. So it wasn’t like the whole thing was pointless.”

“God, you are so a nurse,” Brian says after a moment, laughing. “Knowing all the physical shit about it. Endorphins and all that…”

Zack laughs along with him. “Hey, hazard of the trade,” he says, shrugging. Then, “Let me change. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Brian replies, and watches as Zack turns and heads for the bedroom, Ichabod trotting along behind him. Zack pulls his shirt off before he disappears into the bedroom, and Brian wonders for the millionth time what the Vengeance tattoo means. He’ll ask one day. Just not today. Probably not tomorrow. Probably not even this month.

Zack reappears after a few minutes in a loose t-shirt and a pair of baggy workout shorts, and he stops in the living room to look down at Brian. “You don’t look like you feel very good,” he says, frowning. Brian’s first reaction is to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but he keeps his mouth shut. “If you need some Advil or something, it’s in the bathroom…”

“It’s not – I’m fine,” Brian says. Zack watches him for a moment, obviously seeing right through him, before nodding and heading for the kitchen.

“We’ve got that leftover Chinese from yesterday still in here,” Zack calls. Brian can hear the hum of the refrigerator. “You want some?”

“You were asking me about my parents yesterday,” Brian says, ignoring Zack’s question, because somehow Zack just needs to know. Or maybe Brian just needs to tell him. To just tell _someone._

“Yeah?” Zack says, voice a little tentative. The fridge door shuts, and Brian can hear his padding footfalls. Brian spits out the words before Zack can get close. He doesn’t want Zack to see his face, and moreover, he doesn’t want to see the look on Zack’s face.

“My parents are dead.”

Zack steps in front of him, looking down at him. His face is blank, as though he hasn’t quite processed this.

“They were in a car crash when I was seventeen,” he says. “Just a month before I turned eighteen.”

“Brian…” Zack says. His expression suddenly turns heartbroken, as though he’d just heard that his own parents were dead. Brian wants to reach up and slap him across the face, just because the guy cares too much about _everything._

“If I’d been eighteen, I would have gotten the inheritance,” he says. “The house, the money, the whole deal. But I wasn’t, and it all went to my step-mom. My real parents were still very close – they’d been across town looking at some guitar equipment for my dad, then got hit on the way home. My step-mom was always pissed about that – that my parents were still friends – and she never was really fond of me. I guess because I wasn’t her own…

“But yeah, she got everything, and she did take care of me until I got out of high school. But then, she was just sort of gone. She gave me a handful of money and shut the door behind me. I took out a student loan and then sort of went AWOL, I guess. Started smoking weed a lot, did some harder shit occasionally. Never showed up to class, never studied, was too busy being a raving son of a bitch. I dropped out after freshman year – I was mostly failing everything anyway – but I couldn’t afford to keep going to school and pay rent and buy food and all of that…

“I tried to get in touch with my step-mom a few times toward the end there, once I looked at everything and realized how much I owed with the student loan and all. She never answered my calls, and never called back. So I moved out here, out in downtown, and got a job at a deli. The place went out of business about a year after, and I was already struggling from week to week anyway. I tried to get another job, but the area was just getting slummier and slummier – well, you’ve been around, you know how it’s been down there. No one was hiring, so I ended up selling most of my things. Still didn’t have enough money to get out of town. Still hadn’t completely paid off the student loan…

“Then, I was walking down the street one night, just to go down and get some food. Stopped at a crosswalk, and this guy came by and offered me fifty for a blowjob. And the rest, I think you can figure out yourself.”

Zack just stares. Brian’s chest feels tight, and there’s a lump in his throat. His eyes are watering, so he tilts his head back against the couch so the tears won’t spill over.

Zack just stares, and stares.

“So it’s my fault,” Brian finishes. “If I’d just gotten my shit together, I wouldn’t be here. But I just kept digging this hole, and it’s my fault. And then, I shouldn’t have taken that fifty dollars, but it was just such an easy way out. But – but I did, and that’s why I’m here.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zack says quietly.

“How do you figure that?” Brian asks sardonically. He swallows back that lump in his throat.

“You’d – you’d just lost your parents,” Zack answers. He sounds devastated. “And you didn’t have anyone there for you. I mean, who would be able to deal with that on their own? Especially when you’re getting out of the house and going to college and all that. Leaving the house and going away is scary enough as it is…”

Brian’s vaguely aware that he is about to cry. He keeps his head tilted back, swallows again, and blinks his eyes a few times to make the tears go away. One slides down his cheek anyway.

“God, Brian,” Zack says, and Brian suddenly had hands on his shoulders and thighs against his own. Zack crawls over him, straddling his legs, and wraps his arms around Brian’s neck. He presses his face against Brian’s cheek, and Brian can feel the metal of his lip rings pressing against his jaw. “You’re alright,” Zack mumbles.

“I know!” Brian snaps. It more comes out as a sob. “I know I’m fucking alright!”

“Shh…” Zack says. He doesn’t move, doesn’t pull back, just stays where he is. Brian clings back just as tightly. “It’s alright, babe,” Zack murmurs.

It’s the ‘babe’ that does Brian in. He just sinks, collapses, and lets himself go. Lets himself cry. Lets himself cry for all of those other times that he hadn’t cried before.

He hadn’t cried at his parents’ funeral. He hadn’t cried when his step-mother left him to fend for himself. He hadn’t cried when he’d had to sell his car and all of his valuables. He hadn’t cried after that first blowjob. He hadn’t cried after the first time he’d let someone actually fuck him for money. He hadn’t cried when he’d realized what it was like to be treated like a whore, when he’d realized what it was like to be homeless, cold, and hungry.

Suddenly, though, he can’t stop the tears from coming.

He hates Zack for doing this to him, for sending him to this place of emotion that he doesn’t want, but at the same time loves him for caring enough to push him there and then pull him through on the other side.

Zack can make him glow inside one moment, and then drive him absolutely batshit insane the next.

He’s not sure what this means, but he knows that it’s been a long, long time since someone has cared about him as much as Zack obviously does.

And like most things that Zack does, Brian both hates him and loves him for it.

~*~

Brian calms down eventually, at which point Zack decides they need to go get something to eat.

“I thought you said we had leftover Chinese,” Brian complains. He still feels stuffy from his sobfest. He’s also horrifically embarrassed.

“Yeah,” Zack says. “Let’s just get out of the apartment for a while, though. Go somewhere else.”

“Okay,” Brian says. He doesn’t understand nor necessarily agree, but he’s not in the mood to argue.

Brian stuffs his feet into the pair of flip-flops Zack had bought for him, and follows Zack out the door and to his hybrid.

They drive a mile or so down the road to the Wendy’s there. They order at the drive-thru and then park off to the side to eat. Zack pops Metallica into the CD player, and Brian rests his feet up on the dash.

Brian learns that greasy hamburgers and good music make everything better.

“I hope you’re off tomorrow,” Brian says eventually, looking at the clock on the dash. It’s nearing eleven.

“Yeah,” Zack says with a soft smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Brian nods and looks out the window. It’s a quiet night – not a lot of people on the road.

“You feel better,” Zack says, a statement rather than a question. Brian looks over. “Or, at least you will feel better,” Zack amends.

“No, I do feel better,” Brian says. “I just – I’m so fucking sorry that I…”

“Don’t,” Zack says, interrupting him. “Don’t be sorry. Sometimes you just have to, you know, unload. It’s human.”

“Okay,” Brian says, and lets it go. He goes back to looking out the window and still feels like an over-reacting bastard.

“Hey,” Zack says, and Brian looks back over to find him climbing over the console with a supreme lack of coordination. Brian reaches out to help him, and Zack half-sits, half-falls onto Brian’s lap. They both laugh, and Brian ends up smiling for the first time all night. “There’s a smile,” Zack says, like Brian’s some sort of child or something.

Brian reaches up and runs a thumb over Zack’s bottom lip. The lip rings bump against his finger.

“You know,” Zack says, pulling Brian hand away from his mouth and entwining their fingers together. Brian watches this, because – well fuck, he’s holding hands with the guy. He’s not sure why this feels more intimate than anything else they’ve done, all things considered. “You know,” Zack says, “you’ve said several times that you think I don’t care about you. And I hope that’s just your complex talking, because you have to know that I do…”

Brian doesn’t answer, at least not verbally. He squeezes Zack’s hand gently. Zack smiles, and closes the distance to kiss.

They make out for a long, long while right there in the Wendy’s parking lot, but once things start to get too hot and heavy, Zack takes them back to the apartment.

“We could have fucked there,” Brian points out tiredly as Zack pulls out into traffic. “It was private enough.”

“Rather be home,” Zack says simply, then glances over. “And I didn’t know that sex was on your agenda for the night.”

Brian’s not sure what to say about this.

“I mean, if you want to, that’s fine. Totally fine,” Zack says. “You look like you’re sort of spaced out right now, though. So if you just want to go home and crash, that’s fine too.”

Brian’s first thought is, but this is my job. But then he stops, thinks about what Zack has just said, thinks about what he’s just done for him. Maybe he’ll understand. “If we could just wait until the morning…” he says, trailing off.

“Of course,” Zack says. “And if you don’t feel like it then either, then that’s perfectly okay too.”

Brian wonders when exactly Zack has stopped treating him like a whore. Then, he realizes that Zack never really has.

~*~

They don’t fuck that night, but then Brian wakes up the next morning with a raging hard-on.

He’s not really sure why – he can’t remember dreaming, and he hasn’t just randomly woken up like this since he was in his teens. However, Zack’s ass is pressed up tight against his groin, and he thinks this might be a significant part of the whole thing.

Zack’s still asleep, so Brian pulls away, figuring he’ll go ahead and get in the shower and take care of things there. Except before he can get anywhere, Zack throws a hand out behind him and grabs Brian’s forearm. Brian just about flies up out of the bed in shock.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up,” Zack says, breathless laughter in his throat.

“Dude, you scared the shit out of me,” Brian says as Zack turns over to meet his gaze. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Pfft,” Zack says. “You’re back there rubbing that thing against my ass. Woke me up pretty quick.”

“You should have just woken me up,” Brian says.

Zack doesn’t answer. He’s too busy pulling the covers down, settling between Brian’s legs, and pulling Brian’s cock out of his boxers. He settles down leaning against Brian’s thigh, and wraps a hand around the base of his dick before taking the head into his mouth. Brian groans and lets his eyes slip shut.

“Holy hell, you can suck like a fucking Hoover,” Brian says, moving a hand down to settle at the junction of his thigh and groin. Zack laughs around his cock, the vibrations going right up Brian’s spine, and sets his free hand on top of Brian’s.

He pulls off after a moment, though, and says, “Open your eyes? Please?”

Brian props himself up on his elbow and looks down at Zack. Zack looks back, green eyes full of sex and affection all at the same time, and Brian moves his hand to run his fingers through Zack’s hair like Zack always does with him. Zack smiles, then ducks his head to lick the precome from that slit, and fuck, Brian likes that. He likes it a whole lot.

Zack already knows this, though, and keeps flicking his tongue against it. Brian groans again, and rubs his thumb against Zack’s temple.

Zack goes back to sucking for a few, then pulls off to say, “You’ve got a fucking nice cock.”

Brian can’t help but smile and chuckle a little. “Well, thanks,” he says, and Zack grins back at him as he runs his hand from base to head, then back down.

“You do,” Zack says. “All hot and thick and smooth…”

Brian groans in reply.

“I bet you could fuck my brains out with it…”

Brian reaches down to pull at his balls. If he doesn’t, he’s going to come right then and there. Zack laughs.

“You about to come?” Zack asks. “Come on, babe. Come for me.”

Zack slides his lips back down around Brian’s cock, and Brian does as he’s told.

Later, once Brian has reciprocated and they’d given each other round two handjobs in the shower, Zack says, “I’m glad I know.”

Brian glances over from the couch where he’s eating Cheerios out of the box. Zack’s sitting in the armchair, legs folded up underneath him, his laptop across his knees. “About what?” Brian asks, even though he already knows.

“About--” Zack says, obviously trying to pick out the right words. “About why you’re here.”

Zack doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He half looks at the computer, half keeps his attention on Brian, but Brian understands anyway. He’s suddenly not even uncomfortable about it.

“I’m glad you know, too,” Brian says quietly. Zack fully looks up with that, and Brian can’t help but smile. “Pretty eyes,” he says.

Zack looks back to the computer, a small blush creeping across his cheeks, and smiles this smile that makes Brian’s heart jump a little.

Friends, Brian thinks.

Then, Okay, maybe more than just friends.


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Used and mistreated. Brian can remember the words clearly. “What happened?” he asks Zack.~

Somehow, it goes from New Year’s to the middle of February, and Brian’s left lying next to Zack in bed pondering upon this new development.

It’s been over three months since Brian first met Zack. It seems like forever ago, yet at the same time, it seems like yesterday. Brian hasn’t left Zack again since Christmas. It feels okay. It feels better than okay. He stays busy during the day. He takes care of Zack’s apartment, plays around with his computer and his x-box and his dog, and then gets to go to bed with Zack every night. It’s a pretty damn good set-up, even if on some level he still feels like he’s wasting away.

“You’ve changed,” Zack says that night. Brian’s not sure what the occasion is. Maybe because he somehow knows Brian’s been thinking about it.

“Really, now?” Brian says. He has a leg bent and pressed between Zack’s, and Zack’s thigh is draped over his own, his knee hooked behind Brian’s. He can feel Zack’s genitals pressed up against his thigh, and he really wants a round two. Really wants one. Except he knows that Zack’s exhausted, and so he’s not going to ask.

“Yeah,” Zack says. He reaches a hand out to cup the side of Brian’s neck, and his thumb grazes his jaw. “You’re just more comfortable, you seem like,” Zack says. “You don’t always have one foot headed for the door.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Brian says. And he means it. He fucking means it.

“I know. And I’m glad,” Zack says. Then, after a few moments, “And you just seem… You’re just more comfortable. I don’t know. Maybe I read too much into things – but I want you happy.”

“I am happy,” Brian tells him honestly. He hasn’t been this happy in a long time. He slides a hand across Zack’s hip and down his thigh.

“Good,” Zack says. Then, a little humorously, “You’re also very turned on.”

“What?” Brian says. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Zack says, laughter in his voice. “You’re jabbing my belly.”

Brian coughs to cover up the fact that he’s giggling. “Shut up. You’re not supposed to talk about that,” he says, moving to pull away. “I can’t help it.”

Zack rolls with him as Brian moves, and Brian meets those pretty green eyes. Zack looks pleased. “I’m glad you can’t help it,” Zack says, dipping his head breathe against Brian’s temple. “You always said you enjoyed it, and you always seemed like you did. And it was nice. But now suddenly? Recently? You get turned on at the drop of a hat.”

Brian hasn’t realized this, hasn’t noticed any sort of change. “I’m sorry,” Brian says, then feels sort of stupid for saying that. It’s probably not the right answer. Zack laughs.

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize,” he says, and takes a moment to mouth at Brian cheek as he rolls him all the way over. He settles down behind Brian, spooning against him, and slides a hand around his side and down. “It’s awesome,” he continues. “You’ve started asking me. Telling me you want to have sex, asking me to fuck you, and then you’re hard before I can even get a hand on you.”

To emphasize those last words, Zack gives his cock one, good, teasing squeeze before pulling back to spit in his hand. “You don’t have to do this,” Brian says as Zack wraps slick fingers back around his cock. “I know you’re tired…”

“Now I was just saying how nice you were being,” Zack says, voice faux-disappointed. Then, “Just let me rub you off.”

“You don’t have to ‘reward’ me,” Brian says, but Zack’s already got all of his buttons programmed, and Brian’s far too used to Zack’s body for his own good. Brian’s absently moving with Zack’s hand before he even realizes it.

“I know,” Zack says. Then, “I have tomorrow off, anyway. I can catch up sleep.”

“True enough,” Brian finally relents. He lets his eyes slip shut and relaxes into Zack’s body. Zack chuckles and kisses the back of his neck.

“I love--” Zack says, and everything in Brian’s being comes to a screeching, balls-breaking stand still. His eyes fly open, his muscles go tight, and he’s honestly surprised that he doesn’t lose his hard-on. But then Zack finishes after that rather distinctive pause, “God, I love the way you feel.”

Brian’s life slowly spins back into focus. The handjob continues, he has a passable orgasm, and he goes to sleep.

It’s something he remembers, though. Zack doesn’t love him, and if he’d been about to say it, then he’s out of his mind. But Brian doesn’t want to hurt him, and he’s pretty damn sure that the guy had felt his reaction to those two first words.

He wonders if Zack had been about to go down that dreaded three letter word path, and then diverted when he’d felt Brian panic.

He wonders about a lot of things.

He doesn’t want to hurt Zack.

~*~

The next morning, though, Zack is as amazing as ever.

They fuck when they wake up, and then Brian gets up to shower while Zack goes back to sleep.

The morning routine in running smoothly – meaning Brian is sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal – when the doorbell rings. Brian frowns in the direction of the door while Ichabod starts squealing. Zack starts yelling from the bedroom for the dog to shut up.

Brian shushes at Ichabod, setting his bowl on the coffee table and moving over to the door to get him. Once snatched up, the puppy stops yowling, but the door is still unanswered. Brian looks at the door, looks at the bedroom, then looks back at the door.

Zack doesn’t yell back any helpful information about expecting company or some such.

But then Brian remembers Zack mentioning something about ordering some new scrubs online the other day, so it’s probably just a package. He mentally shrugs his shoulders, repositions the pup into one arm, and opens the door.

There’s no box.

There’s no one there at all.

Brian looks around, steps out onto the sidewalk and looks down the row toward the apartments on either side of Zack’s, before shrugging his shoulders and stepping back inside. He sets the dog back down on the floor once the door’s shut, but the pup goes right back to whining, a little foot pawing agitatedly at the door.

“Hush,” Brian tells him, but he can hear Zack getting up out of bed anyway.

“Is someone there?” Zack calls. He still sounds half-asleep.

“No,” Brian calls back. “False alarm.”

“What?” Zack calls back. Brian rolls his eyes.

“No one was there!” Brian repeats himself, at which point Zack sticks a bed-ruffled head around the side of the doorframe. He’s obviously still naked and trying to hide himself from view for the most part, which is ridiculous on so many levels that Brian can’t even name them all.

“No one?” Zack asks, mouth turning into a worried frown. Brian’s not sure what’s wrong about this. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “I looked.” Then, after an awkward pause, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m going to take a shower,” he says after too long a pause.

And the doorbell incident is dropped as such.

~*~

Brian gets the flu from hell two weeks later.

Zack stays healthy. Brian hates him and loves him for it.

“You can’t just stay home,” Brian tell Zack, then hacks and snots in a rather disgusting manner. Zack’s unfazed by this, but then again, he deals with the sick for a living. Brian thinks it should be different when it’s the person you’re sleeping with, though… Apparently not.

“I can play hooky from the clinic,” Zack says. He’s watching the television from the armchair while Brian’s curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets. “And it’s not even really playing hooky,” Zack adds, “I mean, I’m not sick. But you are.”

Brian’s not sure that this counts, but whatever. He grabs another Kleenex, blows his nose, and adds another dirty tissue to the ever increasing pile on the floor. Every once and a while, Ichabod runs over and snatches one, then runs off with it. Brian’s not sure where he’s taking them to chew them up. Zack will be overjoyed when he finds them.

“I’m going to stay home tomorrow,” Zack decides officially, patting the arms of his chair. “I mean, I know you don’t need me, need me. But it’d just be easier if I were here.”

“Whatever,” Brian says, rolling his eyes as though he thinks Zack is retarded, though in actuality, he thinks it’ll be nice to have Zack around tomorrow.

~*~

He’s not sure when he fell asleep on the couch, but he wakes up to a one-sided phone conversation.

“Yeah. Mmm-hmm. Just the little things, you know?”

He’s not sure where Zack is. Maybe the kitchen? He sighs, and just lets his eyes drift shut again.

“I know he’s like that, Val. You can’t let him get to you. You know he loves you…”

“What…?!”

Brian opens his eyes at the tone there.

“He told you that?”

A very, very long silence. So long that Brian thinks the conversation may be over.

“The truth? You want the truth?” Another long pause. “The truth is yes. He came off of the streets. Yes, he used to prostitute. But no, he is not a bad person. And he hasn’t used me or mistreated me or done any of that. Do you really think I’d go down that road again?”

Brian can’t help but raise his eyebrows at that.

“Matt’s just – Matt’s just overprotective.”

Brian closes his eyes, and sighs.

“Valary! I am not discussing my sex life with you!”

“Yes, of course we use protection. For fuck’s sake…”

“And besides just, having someone here. I feel safer with him here. He’s big, you should see him – well, you saw him before, but he’s filled out a lot since he’s been living here with me. He could put someone on the floor, easy.”

And Brian can’t take it anymore, all this talking about him…

He pushes himself up from the couch, wrapping one of the blankets around him, and toddles toward the kitchen. He finds Zack sitting on one of the kitchen counters, legs dangling off the side, and he looks up to meets Brian’s eyes with a deer-in-headlights expression when he sees Brian coming.

But then his eyes soften, and he reaches a hand out in a ‘come here’ sort of gesture, and Brian’s not really sure why he’s not mad about Zack talking about him. Maybe because Brian’s a part of Zack’s life, and Zack’s allowed to talk to his friends about his life? It all makes sense in a strange way.

He closes the distance and laces his fingers with Zack’s, listens as Zack says, “Yeah, I do too. He’s really good for me.” While he says it into the telephone, Brian’s aware that Zack’s telling Brian this as well.

Zack threads his fingers in and out of Brian’s, then brings his hand up to his mouth to kiss. Brian can’t help but pull away at that. “Eww, don’t kiss my boogery hands,” he says. “You’ll get sick too.”

Zack just laughs, then says into the phone, “Yes, that was him…”

It’s quiet for a while – Val must be talking – and Zack massages his hand slowly, softly. Then suddenly, Zack hands the phone to Brian and says, “Here. She wants to talk to you.”

Brian balks, and his insides twist up in nervousness. He takes the phone, giving Zack a panicked look, and finally mutters a quiet ‘hello’ into the phone. It comes out like a croaking frog, but his throat is sore and dry, and he can’t help it.

“Oh, Zack’s right,” Val says. “You don’t sound good at all.”

“Oh, I’m doing okay,” he says. And he is. He’s sleeping, staying hydrated, staying medicated. Doing what Zack tells him to.

“Well, you’ve got Zack there. He’ll get you better,” she says kindly, and then gets right down to it. “I just want you to know that I personally haven’t seen Zack this happy – as happy as he’s been these past few months – in quite a while. Which was why when Matt told me – I’m assuming you heard what Zack said…”

“Yes,” Brian says.

“Right,” she says. “Which was why, when he told me that, it didn’t make any sense. But if you’re good to him, and you make him happy, then I’m happy for the both of you. But God help me, the minute you put him in a bad place…”

“I know,” Brian says. “I know. And I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to do that to him.”

Zack’s watching him quietly as if he knows the conversation they’re having. Brian tries not to stare back at him.

“Then I’m happy for you both. For you, too. I’m glad you’ve found him,” Val says. “A lot of people don’t find a second chance like this.”

And maybe it’s hearing her say it aloud that makes him realize it, that he really has found his second chance. And that maybe, because he makes Zack happy, he just might deserve it.

“I know,” he says. He looks over to Zack at that. “I’m lucky. Blessed. Whatever you want to call it. Just - it was a one in a million thing to have found him, I think.”

Zack smiles and blushes, and Brian can actually hear Val smile on the other end of the line.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Val says. “It definitely says something about you.”

Brian’s not sure what, but from the way Zack’s looking at him, it must be a good thing.

“Well,” Val says, “I should let you go. I’ve suppose I’ve harassed you enough, and I know you’re sick. You should go lie down.”

“I’ve been lying down all day,” Brian complains, even though he really feels like lying down some more. Zack chuckles, probably because he knows all of this.

“Well, lie down anyway,” Val tells him in a very ‘Zack-like’ tone that has Brian-smirking. “Tell Zack ‘good-night’ for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good-night, Brian.”

“Good-night.”

~*~

He asks Zack the next day, because after all, curiosity killed the cat.

“What happened before?” he asks him, then has cough for a good minute and a half.

“Drink,” Zack tells him in response. “You haven’t drank enough water this morning.”

Brian rolls his eyes, but grabs his water up from the coffee table and downs the rest of the glass. Zack watches approvingly. Once he’s through, he repeats, “What happened before?”

“When?” Zack asks.

“You told Val you wouldn’t…” he trails off, trying to figure out how to word it. He can tell Zack already knows, though, and so he waits. Zack doesn’t offer anyway information willingly, and so Brian is forced to plow on, “Were you in a relationship before this? That went bad?”

“Yes,” Zack says simply.

Used and mistreated. Brian can remember the words clearly. “What happened?” he asks.

Zack just looks at him blankly. While Brian would never admit it, he feels a little hurt.

“I told you,” Brian says quietly. “I told you about me…”

Zack visibly collapses, then looks the other way. “I met him when I was young, still in college,” he explains. “Fell quick, fell hard. Didn’t really understand relationships and what it was all supposed to be. I was too young. I didn’t have enough experience. I was stupid.”

Brian’s quiet. He’s pretty sure this isn’t the end of the story.

“The guy was really controlling. I was in school to go for my M.D., but then we were talking about moving in together once we got out of college, and he didn’t want to wait for me to get out of med school before I could get a stable job. So I switched to nursing, and did the nurse practitioner route. And I should have realized then – when he was telling me what I was going to do with the rest of my life, for fuck’s sake – that the guy was a nutcase, but it all made sense at that time. I don’t know…

“And then, once we moved in together, it only got worse. It was the typical shit you see on Dateline and stuff. I was told what I could wear, and what I could eat, and where I could go, and when I could work, and who I could see and blah blah…”

“Fuck,” Brian says.

“Yeah,” Zack says. He still doesn’t meet Brian’s eyes. “My friends all told me I needed to get the fuck out of there, but I didn’t realize anything was wrong until he beat the crap out of me one night. I told him I didn’t want to have sex, and that wasn’t an acceptable option for him, I guess…” He laughs, as though it’s funny. Brian supposes it’s a laugh or cry sort of deal.

“I went to Matt’s that night after he fell asleep,” Zack says. “And now I’ve got a restraining order against him. And end of story.”

“And that’s it?” Brian asks. “You haven’t seen him since?”

“Oh, he comes by every once and a while,” Zack says. “Usually rings the doorbell during the day and leaves, then comes back at night to whine and cry, because he’s a jerk…”

Brian blinks. “That was him the other day?”

“Probably,” Zack says.

“He didn’t come back,” Brian says.

“Probably because you opened the door,” Zack says. “And he wasn’t quite sure what to do with an unfamiliar dude wandering out and looking around.”

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Brian asks, “How long had it been when you found me? How long had it been since him?”

“A little over two years,” Zack says without pause, as though he’d known this from point one. “I lived with Matt and Val for about six months, then moved in here. Was lonely within weeks. I haven’t lived by myself ever. Grew up in the house with my parents, moved into the dorms in college, moved in with the asshole after college, then Val and Matt, and then here. I bought Ichabod to try and help things, and he did. And he barks at the slightest thing, which makes me feel better too. But I wanted someone here.

“I was bullet shy about putting an ad out for a roommate, though, after everything that had happened. And no one I knew needed a place to stay. And I tried the bars and the clubs and the dating services, and I met nice enough people, but once again got bullet shy after a month or so. And then they’d start calling and calling, and then I’d start panicking because I’m a spazz…”

“And finally I just – I saw you there every night when I was walking to my car after work – and I thought, why not? It’s no strings attached, and it’s someone to be with at night, and you’re fucking gorgeous. And if I get uncomfortable, I can leave, no questions asked. No calls, no hurt feelings.

“But then,” he smiles, soft and pure. “It didn’t quite work out that way I guess. Never quite got uncomfortable.”

Brian watches him, watches those eyes. “You’re eyes are something else,” he says eventually.

Zack blushes, then eventually gets up from the chair to sidle up next to Brian on the couch. He tucks him a little tighter into the blanket, then pulls him closer to his body. Brian lays his head on his shoulder while at the same time protesting, “Don’t get too close. You’ll get sick.”

“You do realize I probably brought this home from the clinic,” Zack tells him.

“Damn you,” Brian says.

Zack laughs, and brings a hand around to rub gently at his back.

It’s silent for quite a while, the voices on the television and Brian’s snuffling the only sounds in the room, but then Zack speaks up, “If I said--” He has the tone of a man about to take a step off of the edge of a cliff. “If I said I could fall in love with you, would that be okay?”

Brian’s quiet at first, then says, “I don’t know.”

Zack sighs, then says, “Could you fall in love with me?”

“I think,” Brian says, suddenly scared out of his mind. He tells Zack a secret that he doesn’t even want himself to know. “I think I might have already fallen in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” Zack says quietly, breathlessly.

“I’ll never hurt you,” Brian tells him. “I’ll never – I’ll never do those things to you.”

“I know,” Zack says. “I know.” Then, again, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Brian says.

And he’s not sure he’s ever meant anything more in his entire life.


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Real love is when you value someone else’s life over your own.~

Of course, something was bound to happen. Brian should have realized this from the beginning, he thinks. It’d been too easy to lull himself into a false sense of security, too easy to convince himself that this was ‘meant to be’. That this was how it would be forever and ever, Amen.

The doorbell starts ringing every damn day.

By the next week, the doorbell is ringing multiple times every damn day.

By the next week, Zack is crawling out of his skin.

And finally…

“ZAAAAAAACK!!!”

It’s just past two o’clock in the morning when they both wake up to it. It sounds like a cat is howling outside the window. Except the cat is howling Zack’s name. Ichabod is going wild.

“Oh my fucking God,” Zack groans, crawling up out of bed and fishing a pair of boxers out of the drawer. Brian does the same, frowning at the ungodly noises, and then follows Zack out into the living area. They both peer through the blinds and out the window.

“Is that him?” Brian asks, peering at the shadow silhouetted outside the door by the lamp posts. He supposes this is a stupid question, all things considered, but still…

“Yup,” Zack says flatly. “Cool guy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “Real catch.”

“WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?!”

“WHY, ZACKY?!?!?!”

Brian snorts. “What do we do now?” he finally asks.

“Wait until he leaves,” Zack says, shrugging.

“Dude,” Brian says, shaking his head. “Call the cops. Have his ass hauled off. You don’t have to put up with this for the next – what? – How long’s he going to do this for?”

“YOU LITTLE WHORE!! YOU SAID I’D BE YOU’RE ONLY!!”

They’re both quiet for a moment after that.

“I usually just leave him,” Zack says. “I mean, he’s obviously drunk off his ass. Or on something, more likely. He probably won’t even remember this tomorrow. If he wakes one of the neighbors up, then they call, but other than that…”

Brian can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

“You’re still sympathetic toward him?” he says. “After everything?”

“No,” Zack says, a little too defensive to really be sincere. “I just don’t want to deal with him.”

“Well, then I’ll call the cops,” Brian says, “and you won’t have to deal with it.”

“No, don’t,” Zack says. “Just don’t worry about it. Don’t bother.”

“IS HE BETTER THAN ME?!?! I’VE SEEN HIM!!”

“Ah,” Brian says. “He’s seen me.”

“Apparently,” Zack says.

“DOES HE MAKE YOU HAPPY?!?!”

“DOES HE MAKE YOU HAPPY, YOU LITTLE WHORE?!?!?!”

“That’s it,” Brian finally spits. “I’m going out there to kick his ass.” And he promptly heads for the door.

“No, no, no, don’t,” Zack starts, panicking. Brian ignores him. “If you open the door--” Brian wrenches the door open “--he'll force his way in here…”

True to word, the big blonde forces his way through the door and right into Brian, effectively bowling him over. While Brian can’t help but go down, he at least takes the asshole down with him, grabbing an arm and a fistful of shirt as he falls. He hits the ground hard, and the asshole falls onto him even harder.

He can hear Zack yelling, and Ichabod is squealing right next to his ear. Brian grabs the guy and rolls them both over so he’s on top, but then ends up with limbs flailing everywhere underneath him. The guy has that uncoordinated, staggering strength of the highly intoxicated going for him, and he throws Brian off of him and kicks the dog across the room in one ridiculously wild motion.

Ichabod immediately goes back to squealing indignantly, so apparently no harm done there.

Brian suddenly realizes that it will do no one any good if he ends up getting knocked unconscious, so he heads into the kitchen for the cellular phone.

And while he’s there, he grabs a kitchen knife for good measure.

He dials 9-1-1 as he rushes back out into the living area, and he finds Zack scrambling over the back of the couch trying to get away of the son of a bitch. The couch tips, and while Zack manages to ungracefully fall with it and stumble up to his feet, the other guy is too fucked up to manage it. He ends up faceplanting into the floor with a crash.

“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

“Yeah,” Brian says, watching as the ex- climbs unsteadily to his knees, then his feet, and looks up at them. Brian thinks he might actually see steam coming out of the guy’s ears, just like in the cartoons. Zack clings to Brian’s arm in utter fear, and Brian waves the kitchen knife around in front of him like he actually knows how to do something with it. “Yeah,” he repeats into the phone. “We’ve got this dude in our apartment…”

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah. Well, no. One of us has a restraining order against him – woah, there…” Zack twists away as the ex- stumbles up and lunges across the kitchen. Brian brandishes the knife at the son of a bitch again, but it doesn’t seem to faze him.

In fact, Brian just gets punched in the face as the ex- slams into him.

“Are you sti--” The phone and knife are thrown out of his hands and to the floor, and then Brian’s bodily picked up and shoved against the sink, face to face with the ex-. The man inspects him, nose curled in distaste, and Brian stares back, trying to look solid as a rock even if his heart is going nine-hundred miles an hour.

He’s not so much scared for himself as he is scared for Zack.

Yeah, Brian’s big. As it turns out, Zack’s ex- is a little bigger.

“Alex…” Zack says, pleading. “Alex, please. Alex, please let him go. I’ll be good. I promise.”

And the fact that Zack would actually tell someone that he would ‘be good’ in a completely serious, none joking, none flirtatious tone has Brian wanting to puke in this guy’s face.

Alex. It’s so normal, unassuming, nonconfrontational. Brian was expecting a ‘Gaston’, or a ‘Jafar’, or at least a ‘Captain Hook’.

No. It’s just Alex.

“Zack,” Brian says as calmly as possible. He lets his eyes drop slowly down Zack’s body, hoping to God that Zack won’t jump, won’t startle, won’t make any unnecessary movement. “Down there, by your foot. Look down.”

Zack very slowly looks down, almost as if he’s afraid of what he’s going to see. But his phone’s there, somehow miraculously still open. Brian hopes the call hasn’t been ended. They’ve got a better chance of tracing it if they’ve still got a connection.

Unfortunately, Alex has followed Zack’s movements as well, and as Zack bends over to pick up the phone, he snarls, “Don’t touch that.”

Zack stops immediately.

“Zack, pick it up,” Brian tells him. “9-1-1 is on the line. Just tell them we’re still here, and that we still need help…”

Those pretty green eyes, scared to death, flicker up to meet his gaze, and Brian tries to silently tell him that it’s okay. That they’ll make it out of this. That he’s so fucking sorry for getting them into this in the first place.

Zack hand wavers a few inches above the phone.

“Don’t touch it,” Alex warns.

“Zack,” Brian says.

Zack reaches down those few inches and picks up the phone.

What happens then happens in the blink of an eye, but to Brian, he feels like the world suddenly slows to a turtle’s crawl.

Alex lets go of Brian to get to Zack, causing Zack to drop the phone back to the floor in a panic and run sideways into one of the cabinets. A large cooking pot that Brian didn’t even know existed – because Zack cooks when? – falls from a shelf and hits the floor with much clanging and banging.

The phone is hit by the pot and is snapped back over on itself with a sickly little crunch.

Brian grabs hold of Alex before he can get near Zack, and Brian goes to shove him back into the sink where he’d just had Brian pinned some seconds before. Alex bows up before Brian can get him there, though, and Brian has to press his hands against the man’s back to keep from falling. Alex leans over to pick something up off of the floor, and once he stands, he promptly spins out of Brian’s grip and pulls Brian flush against his chest.

And then, Alex very carefully takes that kitchen knife he’d just picked up off of the floor and lays it against Brian’s jugular.

The air in the room seems to freeze.

“Alex…” Zack moans.

“Huh?” Alex asks. “Something wrong?”

The look on Zack’s face… Brian’s heart breaks for the other man, and he closes his eyes so he won’t cry.

“Alex, please,” Zack breathes. “Please, just, let him go. I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alex says. “You told me that I’m not your keeper. That I’m too ‘controlling’. That you couldn’t have another person in your life because of what it was like.” He pauses, and Brian can feel Alex breathing down the back of his neck. “Well, if you can’t have another person in your life, then what is this?”

The knife tightens under Brian’s jaw. He lifts his head a bit to ease the pressure. Zack makes a panicked noise, and for some reason leans down and picks up the cooking pot. He rattles it nervously around in his hands.

“He’s pretty, I’ll give you that,” Alex says, his breath still hot and a little wet against Brian’s neck.

It’s a disgusting reminder of what his life used to be like, and he hocks back and spits at Alex’s feet before he really thinks about it.

The knife’s jerked up into his neck in response, and he can feel blood begin to run. Fuck, he thinks quite clearly.

Zack’s crying – Brian can hear the little gasping breaths. He watches as Zack begins to move, and the man meets Brian’s eyes one last time before he drops his gaze to the floor. Brian watches as he walks past them both and into the living area.

Fuck, Brian thinks again.

He suddenly realizes that that was probably the last time he’d ever see those gorgeous green eyes ever again.

Screw that 'probably'. Hope never really did exist.

“That it?!” Alex squawks, chuckling a little. He smells disgusting, Brian thinks. Alcohol and crack, yes, but then stuff that Brian can’t even place. And Brian’s lived on the streets of slumville.

He suddenly wants to call Zack back in there and ask him where the hell he’d found the winner at all those years ago. Clearly, Brian needs to find himself a relative to shack up with in hell once he gets there. They have a grand time...

“You just gonna leave lover boy out here to get his throat sliced open all by himself?” Alex continues, and Brian can’t figure out if he’s enjoying taunting Brian more or Zack more, really. “Wow, Zack. And they all say you’re the--”

He’s cut off midsentence with a resounding, hollow BANG! The sharp pressure against Brian’s throat is released, and Alex drops to the floor behind him. Brian whirls around to see what has happened, wanting desperately to find Zack, and slaps a hand over the stinging wound on his neck on impulse.

Zack’s standing behind him, the cooking pot still help over his head in striking position. Brian stares at him for a moment, a little dumbfounded. Zack stares back, a little dumbfounded as well. Eventually, Zack says, “Don’t touch that place on your neck. It probably needs stitches.”

Brian blinks, then pulls his hand away, looking down at blood. He opens his mouth, unsure of what to say, then frowns. Then finally just says, “You hit him over the head with a pot.”

“Yes,” Zack confirms, lowering his hands from in the air and looking the cooking pot over. “I hit him over the head with a pot.”

“You hit him over the head with a pot,” Brian repeats, then starts cracking up. This is somehow the most hilarious thing in the world. At least, it’s the most hilarious thing in the world at 2:15 AM with a gash in the side of his throat, an unconscious man in the kitchen, and his adrenaline through the roof. Brian laughs, and laughs, and laughs. “I didn’t even know you had a pot. Your cooking specialty is like, what, Easy Mac?”

“Shut up,” Zack says, but he’s started laughing hysterically as well.

Actually, Brian realizes, maybe he’s crying.

No, he’s laughing.

No, crying.

What the--?

“Are you…” Brian starts, and then realizes that maybe asking if he’s okay is a bad idea. “Zack?” he asks.

“Zack?” comes another voice, and they both whirl around in a panic to the front door. Matt meets their gazes, and lowers his gun once he’s already given Brian a second heart attack.

“I got the call about an intruder,” Matt says, moving on into the apartment, frowning. Another man that Brian thinks looks vaguely familiar follows him in, already pocketing his gun. “Oh,” Matt says once Alex’s unconscious form comes into sight. He turns startled eyes around to Zack, as though afraid to ask what had happened.

“He hit him over the head with that cooking pot,” Brian informs him gleefully. This is still funny, even if Zack is upset. Brian can’t help it.

“Oh,” Matt says again. Matt’s partner gets a call on his walkie-talkie, and he wanders away from them to talk. Matt ignores him, instead narrows his eyes at Brian and asks, “What the hell happened to your neck?”

“Alex had a knife to his throat,” Zack says, his voice shaking.

Matt’s fellow cop goes silent across the room.

“It needs stitches,” Zack adds. “I should, you know. Get him to the hospital.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Matt growls.

Zack stares at him with wide eyes. Brian thinks he looks a bit horror stricken.

“Don’t talk to him like that right now,” Brian says quietly.

“Don’t,” Zack says. “Don’t treat me like…”

“I’m not,” Brian starts.

“You can’t drive yourself…” He turns away from Brian to address Matt instead. “He doesn’t have a license. He can’t get himself to the ER.”

“We’re going to have to get paramedics in to take care of this fucker,” Matt says, motioning to Alex. “We can get another ambulance.”

“He doesn’t need an ambulance,” Zack says. However, what Brian hears in his voice is, I don’t want him to leave me right now.

Brian thinks Matt must hear it too. His face softens dramatically, and he gives a rather put upon sigh. A couple of paramedics file in, but thankfully hone in to the guy on the floor. Brian fights the urge to hold onto the side of his neck. “Just promise me something,” Matt eventually says. Zack watches him warily. “Promise me, Zack. Promise me you’ll prosecute this time.”

Brian frowns. “What?” he asks.

Zack fidgets.

“Zack. Promise me,” Matt says.

“You’ve never prosecuted?” Brian asks. “How the hell do you have a restraining order?”

“It’s a long story,” Zack says quietly.

“Zack, please,” Matt says. And Brian’s never seen him like this. Matt is Bad Cop. Matt is always Bad Cop. Matt does not know the word ‘please’. “Zack, please. You have to prosecute. Look--” He reaches out to grab Brian’s jaw, and he turns Brian face until that gash is in Zack’s face. “That’s attempted murder,” Matt says. “That’s attempted murder that will probably never be able to be proved in court, all things considered. But you know what happened, and fuck, of course Brian here knows what happened. And you’ve told me, and I trust you, and so I know what happened. And it’s attempted murder.”

It’s very, very quiet. Matt lets go of Brian’s face.

“You need to prosecute. This game of cat and mouse needs to end,” Matt says.

Zack nods eventually, obviously uncomfortable about the entire notion.

Matt sighs. “Go, on. Get him to the hospital,” he says. “We’ll talk later. I’ll let you know when Crime Scene wants to talk to you…”

“Okay,” Zack says, still so quiet and timid. He glances over at Brian. “Here, let me get you a towel for your neck. Then we’ll go…”

It all happens in the span of about fifteen minutes.

To Brian, it feels like fifteen hours.

~*~

The ER is packed.

“Fuck this,” Zack says as soon as they walk in through the automatic doors. “I’ll stitch you up my-fucking-self.”

And so they pile back into his little hybrid and head toward slumville and to the clinic. Brian holds the towel close to his neck and tries not to get any blood – fresh or clotted – in Zack’s car.

Brian doesn’t recognize any of the people in the clinic on night duty – which is probably a good thing, he supposes. They’re both dressed in the shabbiest shit in the apartment, and Brian’s fairly sure his hair is sticking up on one side. They’re both gorgeous, for sure.

Zack sits him down in the first exam room, and the goes to get equipment and gloves and all that nursey shit he loves so much. Brian lets his towel drop to the table beside him, lets his eyes slip shut, finally lets himself relax.

He’s so, so tired.

“Are you okay?”

Brian open his eyes, gives Zack a tiny little smile as he rolls the sanitized work table up by the bed. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he says. “Just tired.” Then, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the little pad to sanitize with. He holds Brian’s cheek in one, gentle hand and warns, “This is going to sting a little.”

“Okay,” he says, and hides his wince as Zack slides the peroxide up into the wound. Zack smoothes his thumb down Brian’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Brian asks eventually. “You still seem a little--” he searches for a right word. “A little…”

Zack makes a soft breathy noise that he chokes on, then chokes on another one immediately, and when Brian turns his head to look over at him, Zack drops the bloody peroxide sponge and says, “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do this…”

“What?” Brian says, panicking. “But, we got through it! We…”

“I just, I can’t look at it. My hands are shaking. I keep – I thought he was going to kill you,” he starts, and the tears start rolling as soon as he does. “And after everything. You, I don’t know. You’ve done so much for me, and you’re the one good thing that’s happened for me in so, so long. And he’s taken everything from me. And I thought I was going to watch him take you too. And holy fucking hell, let me find someone else to stitch your neck up…”

“Hey, hey,” Brian says, reaching for him, trying to bring him back before he can get away. And this – Brian reaching out to Zack – he suddenly realizes that this might be a first…

Zack trembles, and obviously goes through the few mandatory seconds of internal ‘I’m a man, I can’t cry’ monologue, before he allows Brian to pull him back in.

“It’ll be okay,” Brian tells him quietly. “It’ll be okay. It is okay. Everyone’s still here. Everyone’s still safe. It’s all okay.”

“I know,” Zack says, voice muffled against the skin of Brian's neck – the good side of his neck. “It just – everything,” Zack rambles.

And Brian understands. He doesn’t really feel anything, except confusion at not feeling anything. It doesn’t seem real. It seems like a movie. He’s detached from it all. But regardless, even though he feels nothing at that moment, he can remember a feeling from before…

He can remember looking at Zack’s eyes that last time – or what he’d thought was going to be the last time – and the way his whole being and soul had twisted and screamed and collapsed.

“Zack?”

The curtain opens, and they both jerk apart to find a very young, very embarrassed nurse glancing in at them. Or rather, staring at the floor after seeing them holding onto each other.

“I’m sorry. I heard you’d come in here after a crime at your apartment, and I just want to see if you needed any help,” she says, letting her eyes slide back up sheepishly. “I didn’t realize…” she trails off.

Brian’s not sure what she didn’t realize – that Zack wasn’t by himself, or that Zack was in a relationship with the ‘other person’, or simply that Zack was a homosexual. Zack doesn’t really seem to care, at least not about that. He immediately goes about rubbing his eyes and pasting on a fake smile, though.

Brian watches him, and thinks…

Real love is when you value someone else’s life over your own.

“It’s okay,” Zack tells her. “Actually, though. Would you mind stitching this wound up for me? I’ll sign it off on your hours.”

Her face brightens. “Yes, yes. Thank you,” she says, then happens to glance back at Brian’s neck. Her face falls promptly. “Oh. Is everything…?”

“I’ll tell you about it,” Zack says. “Go on. Wash up and get ready.”

“Of course. Yes, sir,” she says, and promptly turns and leaves. Brian has to bite his tongue.

“Yes, sir?” he asks, once he’s fairly sure the girl won’t hear. Zack gives him a look.

“She’s just out of school. Don’t give her shit,” he mutters, settling down very carefully on the exam table next to Brian. He wiggles a bit once he’s there, looking down at his ass. “We had one of these collapse once with two people on it,” Zack mentions.

“Thanks for sharing,” Brian says.

Zack smiles at him, even though it’s a bit watery and forced. Brian reaches over to take his hand, silent comfort and support.

“My neck hurts,” he says absently.

“M’sorry. She’ll be back soon,” he says. Then, “That’s a shitty place to have stitches. You’re going to have to be careful how you move your head.”

For some reason, Brian finds this funny. Does anyone actually think about how they move their head? He laughs.

Zack laughs too. “What? I didn’t make the rules,” he says.

“No, it’s just,” Brian says, laughing. “How do you do that?”

This brings Zack to an almost hysterical laugh. It’s a beautiful thing to see right then. Brian smiles. “What?” Zack manages. “Come on, you’re not that desperate to do that.”

Wait… “What?” Brian asks, laughing.

“I think you can wait to give a fucking b-j until after you’ve gotten the stitches out,” Zack says, still sniggering. “Admit it. Better to receive than give. This is a perfect excuse…”

“I wasn’t even thinking about sex right then,” Brian says, laughing even harder now as well. “Holy fucking shit, you are a dirty pig…”

Zack’s laugh falters, and Brian realizes that he probably shouldn’t have called him that. At least not now. Not then. He plows on as if nothing had happened, because he hadn’t meant anything. He leans sideways, bumping his shoulder against Zack’s, and doesn’t rein in his laughter. It seems to remedy the situation.

“You could probably still blow someone with stitches in your neck,” Brian muses.

“Yeah,” Zack says. “If you want a disgusting scar on your neck for the rest of your life.”

“Hey,” he replies. “Win some. Lose some.”

“I love you,” Zack says openly.

The nurse comes back through the door with new stitches.

Brian looks at him, look at those eyes that he can see. That he hopes he’ll be able to see for years and years to come.

He squeezes Zack’s hand three times in a silent reply.


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~“I take my eyes off of you for one second, and I might get hit with a cooking pot. You never know about these things…”~

Zack’s apartment is roped of with yellow crime scene tape when they pull back up to it at five-thirty in the morning.

Brian – complete with fifty-three stitches and an antibacterial dressing – thinks they should have expected this, though where they’re supposed to stay now is a bit of a mystery.

“Maybe,” Zack ventures. “Maybe we could stay at Matt’s. Since he knows the apartment is out of commission.”

However, before they can even decide to pull out of the complex, Matt is moving away from the scene and toward them. He has a duffle bag over one shoulder, Ichabod in the other arm, and a scowl on his face. “I kept calling your cell to tell you they’d roped the place off,” Matt says, already opening the back seat up to throw the bag and the dog in. Ichabod rushes up into the driver’s seat to lick at Zack’s face. Brian suddenly wonders where the dog has been during all of this. Matt continues, “Then they found it crushed on the kitchen floor when they started going through everything.”

“Yeah,” Zack says, trying unsuccessfully to pull Ichabod off of his face. Brian reaches out to try and help, but only ends up with the dog’s tongue up his nose instead. “Don’t let him lick at your neck!” Zack says somewhat hysterically.

“Some old lady like, oh, three buildings down had him,” Matt says, motioning to the puppy as he leans down on the driver’s side window. “She said he was scratching at her door, and she brought him back over here to see if we knew anything about him.” He chuckles. “She said she wanted to keep him. Thought he was cute.”

“Everyone thinks Ichabod is cute,” Brian says, finally taking the pup from Zack. He wiggles around a little bit in Brian’s arms, but eventually settles down, staring over at Zack and Matt with his ear pricked in excited interest. Brian wishes he had as much energy as the pup at that moment.

“Well, Val’s waiting on you guys,” Matt says.

“I was going to ask if maybe we could stay there,” Zack asks shyly. “Just until…”

“Yeah, for fuck’s sake,” Matt says, exasperated. “I thought that was understood.”

“Oh. Okay,” Zack says. “Well, thank you.”

Matt just shakes his head. “Get over there. Get some sleep. You both look like death warmed over,” he says.

“Gee, thanks,” Brian says, but Matt’s already backing away from the car. Zack throws it in reverse.

“I should be back about seven, eight,” Matt says, then shakes his head. “I have to run back by the station. This is turning into the biggest mess. I should have never let you guys leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Zack says.

“Don’t,” Matt says, still shaking his head. “I’m glad you weren’t here when the son of a bitch woke up.”

And really, that’s all that needed to be said.

“Go home,” Matt says. “Get some sleep.”

Zack nods silently, and backs out of the complex.

~*~

Val meets them at the front door in one of Matt’s t-shirts, and she gives them both long, tight hugs once they’re through the door. Brian’s still holding Ichabod, and the dog claws at the side of Val’s hair as she hugs Brian.

“I tried to clear out the spare bedroom for you guys,” she says, turning away to lead them down a hall. “It’s still a little cluttered – it became our ‘if there’s no place for it, but it in there’ room since you left, Zack. But I put clean sheets on the bed, and there’re towels and soap and everything in the bathroom.”

“You’re amazing,” Zack says. Val just rubs his back in reply.

“Go,” Val says. “Get some sleep.”

Zack nods, and wanders into the bedroom with the duffle bag. Brian leans down to set Ichabod on the floor, and the pup trots in after Zack. Val reaches her fingers out to touch the bandage on Brian’s neck.

“You’re something else,” she says vaguely. Then, “Where’d you have this done. South Regional?”

“No, the clinic,” Brian answers.

“Oh,” Val says. “Zack do it?”

“No. He…” Brian pauses. “He couldn’t. He had someone else do it.”

Val nods, an understanding look on her face. “Well, I’m sure if he trusted them to stitch you up, they were plenty good,” she says. “You listen to what he tells you, though. Keep it clean and sterilized so it heals well.”

Brian can’t help but chuckle. “You sound like him.”

She smiles softly. “You’re clearly important to him,” she says, “which means you’re important to me, too.”

And he hasn’t had this in so long. Hasn’t felt like he has a group of people who care about him. Or at least is making a group. Making friends. Like he might actually be respected for who he is, not just wanted for what he does. He wants to tell Val this, but it feels too personal. And he’s too tired.

He’s sort of beginning to realize that Val’s the intuitive type anyway. She’s probably already figured him out herself.

“Well, you need to get some sleep, too,” Val says eventually, pushing him gently toward the bedroom. “Try not to think about it too much. Just rest.”

“I know,” Brian says.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Val says, and she peers around the corner of the door as Brian enters the room. Zack’s got the duffle bag open and is pulling a few pairs of clean boxers out, as well as toothpaste and the like. As soon as the door is shut, Brian’s going to put it all back in the bag and force the man into the bed. There will be time for teeth-brushing tomorrow. Right now, they all need sleep.

“Good-night,” Val says quietly, and then shuts the door behind herself.

Brian walks up behind Zack and hugs him. Zack drops what he’s doing and sighs.

“Let’s just go to bed?” Brian suggests. “Forget about this. It can wait.”

Ichabod makes a running leap for the bed, misses, and falls to the floor. It has both Zack and Brian chuckling. The pup makes a second attempt, and finally makes it.

Zack begins putting his things back in the bag, and Brian rubs his belly gently. Brian’s only slightly surprised when Zack’s breath begins hitching again. “You’re okay,” Brian mutters, burying his face in the side of Zack’s neck.

“No,” Zack says. “I’m a blubbering idiot.” Then, “How are you so calm? I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure,” Brian says. And he’s moved on from being confused about it to feeling guilty about it. Because surely he should be like Zack – traumatized, or at least shaken up. “It just doesn’t seem real,” Brian explains. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t,” Zack says. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just sorry I’m like this…”

Brian shakes his head. “Don’t say that. You know I understand.”

Zack leans his head back against Brian’s shoulder. “Can we have sex?” he asks timidly, almost as if he’s embarrassed for wanting, for asking.

“I’ll-I’ll try, Zack,” he says, trying not to sigh in exhaustion. “I’m really tired. I might not be able to, well, participate much…”

“Then maybe,” Zack says. “Maybe tomorrow? When we wake up?”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He runs his hands up under Zack’s shirt, then pulls it off. “Come on, bed,” he says. “Sleep.”

Zack allows Brian to let him go and drop the shirt to the ground, and he goes for the bed once Brian backs away to undress. Brian watches as Zack steps out of his jeans, then watches as he pulls the covers back – watches as he slides under the covers, watches as he picks Ichabod up and sets him down on his chest. Then suddenly Zack iz staring at him, eyes a little alarmed. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I--” Brian says. You’re gorgeous, he thinks. I never want to take my eyes off of you again, he thinks. I want to ask you if you think this is forever, or if I just have my own reasons to… “I don’t know,” Brian says, finally pulling his own side of the covers back to crawl in beside Zack. “I take my eyes off of you for one second, and I might get hit with a cooking pot. You never know about these things…”

He gets a smile for that, at least. Zack rubs at Ichabod’s back, and Ichabod wags his tail. Brian wants to ask Zack for a kiss, but thinks that would be too cliché.

So he settles for a ‘hey’. And when Zack looks over, he reaches out to pull him over, to ask without words. Zack leans over willingly, if a little shakily, and presses a half-opened mouth against Brian’s lips, and he just breathes.

Brian breathes back, and gently closes his mouth over that thick bottom lip.

“Mmm,” Zack murmurs once Brian pulls away. Brian echoes him, then chuckles a little. “Well let’s – let’s end on a good note.” Zack says with a wideways grin. “So – goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Brian says, and smiles as he watches Zack snuggle down into the sheets. He curls up next to him, throwing an arm out across Zack’s middle. Ichabod crawls over the side of Zack’s head in search of a better place to lie down.

Zack curses at the dog lazily, but Brian can tell that he’s already half-way asleep. He wraps that arm a little tighter around him – a silent way of reminding them both that they’re safe here – and lets himself drift off as well.

~*~

Brian wakes up the next morning to find Zack regarding him through one hazy, sleepy eye, the other half of his face still smooshed soundly into the pillow. It makes him smile tiredly, and he stretches a hand out to lay it down on Zack’s cheek. He doesn’t bother to stifle his yawn. He wonders what time it is.

“Did you sleep alright?” Zack asks, and yawns after Brian.

“Yeah,” he says, letting his hand slide down from his cheek to his neck, then over his shoulder. He suddenly wants to touch. Zack is there to touch. Brian is allowed to touch him all he wants. “You?” he asks.

“Yeah,” he says, rolling his shoulder up into Brian hand. Brian takes a moment to squeeze the muscle there, work his hand down Zack’s bicep, then back up. Zack sighs.

Zack runs his fingers around the edge of Brian’s bandage once Brian lets go of his arm, but he doesn’t say anything afterwards. Brian figures he must not be going to die anytime soon, so he goes about running his hand down Zack’s side and over the curve of his belly, then around that nice round ass and the back of a thigh.

At this point, Zack takes his hand away and brings it up to his mouth. He keeps eye contact with Brian as he sucks on two fingers, then guides those two fingers down to where he has a thigh draped over Brian’s hip.

He practically presses them into himself, and it’s the hottest thing Brian’s ever seen in his life.

And Brian’s done this with Zack to some extent. He’s slid a finger in while he was sucking him off, licked him and rubbed at him while he was sucking him off, but that’s been it.

Somehow, it’s different like this. It’s different with their bodies bent like this, and breath hot against each other’s skin, and the way Zack reacts when Brain presses forward his fingers curled…

Also, Brian’s vaguely aware of what this means. Of what this means Zack wants. It’s different, and nervewracking, and exciting, and perfect…

Zack rolls over onto his back eventually, taking Brian with him, and the covers fall all the way off with them. Zack takes a moment to pull his boxers off, and Brian does the same. Ichabod stares at them indignantly from the foot of the bed.

“Cockblocker,” Brian tells the dog, and shoos him off of the bed. “Down, dog.” Zack laughs.

“Shut up,” Zack says. Then, reaching out for Brian, “Get back here.”

Brian goes to lean back over him, but Zack continues to tug at his hips. He crawls forward, about ask Zack what the fuck he’s doing, but then Zack curls forward and wraps his lips around Brian’s cock. “Fuck,” Brian says, throwing one hand out into the headboard to keep his balance, and letting the other slide through Zack’s hair. “Do you have a condom?” he thinks to ask.

Zack pulls off, pushes Brian back a little, then sits up. “No,” he says, “but it’s okay. We don’t need one.”

“Oh my God, Zack. Yes we do,” Brian starts. “We’re not having this conversation right now…”

“I tested you. You’re fine. Don’t start,” Zack says, starting to push Brian back into something that would resemble the missionary position. Brian does his best to resist.

“Zack, that has been--” He doesn’t even know. “I’ve been with…” I’ve been with other people since then. I’ve whored since that test. That test isn’t reliable. In the grand scheme of things, I’m still a whore. Maybe we…

“No,” Zack says forcefully. He wraps his legs around Brian’s waist and tries to pull him down. “I took your toothbrush in February and tested it. It was fine. You’re fine.”

Brian stops moving and looks down at him. Zack suddenly stops moving as well and stares back, then begins to look highly uneasy. “I didn’t mean--” Zack starts. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you or… I just wanted to know. For you. Because if you weren’t healthy, you needed to get treated, you know? And the sooner you catch – that. The better that chance of staying healthy and happy and shit.” He’s quiet for a long time, and Brian’s not sure what to say. “And I just… I just want you happy and healthy, you know?” he finishes.

Brian stares. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I didn’t want you to be mad,” Zack says. Which Brian thinks is pretty ridiculous. ‘Hey, I found out you were healthy! Don’t be mad!’ “I mean, I wasn’t just trying to invade your privacy…” Zack rambles.

But on second thought, back in February, Brian may have been angry about it. It was, on some level, an invasion of privacy.

“Please don’t be angry,” Zack says, and Brian looks down at him and realizes just how far back last night has put him. Of course, Brian hadn’t seen him ‘before’, so to speak, so he has no real basis for comparison. But in all of the times that Brian has been an utter asshole to Zack – which even Brian can admit has been a lot – Zack has never asked him to not be angry.

“I’m not,” Brian says. “I’m not mad. Not angry.” He lets himself settle down between Zack’s legs, and feels Zack’s thighs close around his hips. It’s comfortable and warm. He leans down to breathe against the man’s jaw, and can feel the rough edge of his stubble. He lets his hand wander back up the inside of Zack’s thigh, then leans back on his haunches to rub at Zack’s perineum.

Zack regards him through those pretty eyes, his legs spread out wantonly, and Brian spits once before letting his fingers slide beck inside. Zack rolls his hips with him, then mumbles, “I thought you’d be mad.”

Brian just shakes his head, and watches as Zack shifts a little beneath him. Brian curls his fingers, and Zack arches his back. It’s really hard to get mad at you anymore, Brian thinks.

“I want more,” Zack says eventually, reaching down to grab at Brian wrist. “I want you…”

Brian meets his eyes, heat curling so tight in his stomach, and lets his fingers slide out. “If you’re sure you’re okay,” Brian says. “If you’re sure you’re okay with not using protection. And only using spit…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Zack snaps. “We’re both clean. And spit’s fine.”

“You always use real lube with me,” Brian points out.

“Yeah, because you’ve been torn before,” Zack says. He tugs at Brian’s hips. “Fuck me…”

Brian hesitates. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve topped?”

“No,” Zack says. “And I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

“I haven’t topped since like--” Zack stares up at him in something resembling exasperation. “Since like the dinosaurs roamed the earth…”

Zack spits in his hand a few times, then reaches down between them to rub over Brian cock. He lines Brian up himself, then demands again, “Fuck me.”

And Brian’s only a man, and he has very little willpower when the head of his cock is being held against Zack’s asshole. Zack’s rubs him against that little pucker. Brian shivers. “Just,” Brian says, letting his hips shift forward a fraction of an inch. “Just tell me if I’m hurting you. Or if it feels like shit. Or something…”

“Of course,” Zack says, and his voice softens with the words. “Just, come on,” he says, and when he tugs at Brian’s hip again, Brian lets himself sink in.

Zack breathes out slowly, and his head lolls to the side on his pillow. Brian gets as deep as he can – because fuck, fuck, fuck – and when he leans down over Zack, propping himself up on his forearms, Zack wraps his hands around Brian’s biceps and holds tight.

Zack hitches his legs up around Brian’s waist, and Brian starts a slow rhythm.

“Brian,” Zack sighs, then lets his head flop to the other side.

“You okay?” Brian murmurs, ducking his head. Zack turns his head, and they end up breathing into each other’s mouths. Zack makes an ‘mmm’ sort of noise, and then Brian kisses him.

And this is what therapeutic sex is, Brian realizes. It’s not like how it’s fantasized in romance novels or movies. It’s just real sex between two real people who need reassurance – reassurance that they’re still together, that love still exists, and that they’re both still alive.

It’s there in the way Zack’s head is thrown back over his pillow, his neck and throat exposed and gorgeous and perfect for Brian to lick and suck at.

It’s there in the way Zack says his name, and tells him how good he feels, and tells him how much he’s needed this.

And it’s there in the way Zack smiles at him afterwards, sated and sweaty and still a little sleepy, and says, “Good. Yeah?”

Brian chuckles. “Ah. I guess it was alright,” he says, rolling his eyes at the complete understatement. He reaches out to brush a piece of hair off of Zack’s forehead, then lets his thumb drift affectionately down Zack’s cheek. He’s not sure how he’s gotten this attached to the man. “You deserve so much better than me,” Brian says absently.

“I’m not sure how you can say that,” Zack says. Then, suddenly very irritably, “Or why the hell the thought even crosses your mind anymore…”

Brian doesn’t answer.

Zack sighs. “You put your life on the line for me last night,” he eventually says. “You can’t say…”

“He put a knife to my throat,” Brian says. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

“He wanted me,” Zack says. “He was going for me. If you’d let him go when he let you go…”

“He grabbed me.”

“No,” Zack says. “He had you pinned, and then as soon as I picked up the phone, he lost it. He wanted me. He just had to settle for you because you wouldn’t let him get to me…”

Brian thinks, and maybe Zack is right.

“Well, what else was I suppose to do?” Brian asks.

Zack just shakes his head into the pillow.

“You did the same thing,” Brian points out. “What if he didn’t go down when you hit him? Or he’d seen you? He’d have had you before you’d have been able to do anything about it…”

“That’s not the same,” Zack says.

Brian rolls his eyes.

“You put your life on the line,” Zack says. “And I love you for it. And I’d do the same if the situation were reversed.”

You already did, Brian wants to say, but he doesn’t. He just sighs and stares at those beautiful green eyes. “That last time you walked by,” he blurts suddenly. “That last time you walked by me in the kitchen, when Alex was behind me and you had the pot. You looked me once in the face, and I thought – I though, fuck, that’s the last time I’m ever going to be able to look at his eyes ever again…”

Zack just looks at him blankly. Maybe he doesn’t understand, or maybe he can’t process this. Brian doesn’t know. Brian reaches a hand out and runs a finger down an eyelid, forcing Zack to close that eye. Zack does so willingly and trustingly.

“I love your eyes,” Brian rambles. “I know I’ve said that before, but I do.” Then, “Does your whole family have green eyes? Or are you just the anomaly?”

“Oh, fancy word,” Zack says, and Brian flicks him lightly in the nose before he lets his hand fall to his shoulder. “Nah, I’m sort of a black sheep,” he eventually answers. “We’re a big Italian family, and every once and a while a baby will pop out will the green eyes, but mostly everyone has dark eyes.”

Brian smiles. “You’re lucky.”

Zack shrugs a little shyly, and then they lapse into a comfortable silence.

“Do you think I look okay?” Zack brings up out of the blue.

“What do you mean?” Brian asks. “Was I not just saying…?”

“No, I mean…” Zack says. “Alex always used to give me crap. Say I was overweight and shit. I mean, I’ll try to go back on a diet if…”

“Zack, I’m not,” Brian says. “I’m not Alex.”

Zack’s quiet, then says, “I know. I just was saying, I mean, I have gained a lot since I left him…”

“You look fine,” Brian says. “You look hella good.” You’ve got this ass on you that is something else entirely…

Zack doesn’t say anything. Brian rubs his shoulder.

“I should take a shower,” Zack eventually says. “Matt’s home, and he’ll probably want to talk to me soon.”

“Okay,” Brian says, and he checks out aforementioned awesome, round ass as Zack gets up and wanders into the adjoined bathroom stark naked. He opens his mouth to say ‘I love you’, and finds the words harder to say when there’s no fit of emotion to fuel them.

Zack’s already shut the door behind him before Brian can get them out.

He stares at the bathroom door and wonders what the hell is wrong with himself.

~*~

It’s not until there’s a series of knocks on the bedroom door, and Brian’s in the process of swinging up out of bed to get his boxers, that he realizes they’d never locked the door.

Val opens the door slowly, which at least gives Brian enough time to cover himself back up with the sheets before Val sees anything. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Val says, frowning.

“No,” Brian says awkwardly. “I thought we had the door locked. My bad.”

The room still smells like sex, which is mildly embarrassing. Except Val doesn’t look evenly slightly surprised or offended. And Brian supposes that it is sort of expected that they’d have sex after last night, all things considered.

And really, she could have walked in while they were actually fucking. The door had been unlocked the whole time, after all. And that? That would have been worlds more humiliating.

“Is Zack here?” Val asks.

“He’s in the shower,” Brian says.

“Sort of what of thought,” she replies. “Will you send him out to the kitchen when he’s through? Matt wants to talk to him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Brian says.

And so when Zack gets out of the shower, Brian relays the message.

But this time, when Zack gets to the bedroom door to let himself out into the hall, dressed and clean and shaved and looking like himself again – this time, Brian doesn’t fuck up.

“Zack,” Brian says, before Zack can close the door behind himself and leave Brian to shower and get dressed himself. Zack backs up a few steps and peers around to meet Brian’s gaze. “You mean the world to me,” he manages to get out. “And I’m really sorry this happened. I would have never opened that door if…”

“You didn’t know,” Zack says. “You were just…”

“You were asking me to leave it,” Brian says, “and I should have respected that.”

Zack shakes his head, but doesn’t answer.

“I just need to learn,” Brian says. “I’ll learn…”

“You don’t need to learn anything,” Zack says. “I just want someone to stand next to me. I’m used to someone standing over me. And since I’ve been the one being towered over, God knows I don’t want to be the overpowering one.”

It’s quiet.

“And I don’t want that,” Zack eventually says. “I just want to have someone to share my life with. Because I have this life. And you have your life. And we don’t always agree on everything. And we don’t always get along. And you really drive me fucking insane sometimes. But then you make me smile, and you make me laugh. And I like spending time with you, and talking to you, and your personality and just… You’re my best friend.”

Brian’s not sure what to do or say. He figures he’d make love to him again if he wasn’t needed out in the kitchen. Words aren’t his forte, though.

“I think this is what it’s supposed to be like,” Zack says quietly. “You know… Love. Relationships. Making this shit actually work. Or at least trying to.”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “I think you might be right.”

Zack nods, still hanging in the door. “Are we going to?” Zack eventually asks. “Keep trying to make this work?”

“Zack…” Brian sighs. “Zack, I--”

“I know, I know,” Zack says. “But I can help you get back on your feet. I can help you find a job, and help you get back into school if you want. Get you a little used car or something, you know? It won’t take too much.”

“I can’t take advantage of you like that,” Brian says, immediately humiliated. “I figure a way out to take care of things.” He’s already thinking of how to hide the fact that he’ll be whoring from Zack…

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Zack snarls, too loudly considering there are other people in the house. Brian balks.

“I can’t--” Brian searches for the right words. “You get paid jack shit, Zack. You live in a little apartment. You’re obviously careful about what you buy and how you spend. And the economy sucks. You’re not going to put money down on me to help get me back on my feet!”

“Who said I was broke?” Zack says, narrowing his eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” Brian snaps.

“Just because I choose not to spend it doesn’t mean I don’t have it,” Zack says, still a little hostile. But then his voice softens, even becomes a bit amused, “And if you’ll recall – big Italian family. I’ve got money through them, too. They might me ex-mafia or something. I dunno.”

Brian laughs. “Great. So you’re going to use your parents mafia money to put your prostitute gay-boyfriend through college? I’m sure that’ll go over real well with them.”

“Some things, parents just don’t need to know,” Zack says, grinning. Then, “And for the record, you’re not a prostitute.”

“Well, not anymore,” Brian relents, then shrugs. Zack nods, still grinning a little.

“That was the first time you’ve ever said ‘boyfriend’,” Zack points out. “In reference to one of us, at least.”

“Well, we are,” Brian says, then adds, “aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Zack says. “We’re going to try to make this work, right?”

“Right,” Brian confirms.

“Try to make this work for, like, a long time?”

“Yes. Right.”

“A long time, like, a long, long time?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Like, nursing home long time?”

Brian can’t help but laugh. “We’ll be old, smelly, wrinkly, and chasing after each other in wheelchairs, for sure…”

Zack laughs as well, then leans his head against the doorframe. He smiles in at Brian with the gorgeous look on his face – peaceful and happy – and Brian watches him with a soft grin. “I love you,” he says quietly. Then, “Go take a shower, and leave that bandage on those stitches. Try to keep it as dry as you can.”

“Yessir,” Brian mocks, and Zack gives him an exasperated (and flaming) little eyeroll.

And Brian manages to catch him one last time before he leaves for the kitchen.

“Zack,” he says, and when Zack peeks back in, “I love you, too.”

Zack smiles gently, almost shyly, and ducks his head before he finally disappears down the hall.

It’s only the third time Brian’s actually said the word to him. The scary l-word. Love.

He’s now aiming for infinity.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Yes, hope is hard to come by, but when you least expect it, it might walk up to you in the middle of a dark night with the brightest green eyes you’ve ever seen.~

Brian had been concerned about Zack moving back into that same apartment after everything had happened. There were other apartment complexes, he’d pointed out. Maybe it would be better to get away from there.

Zack had ignored him.

And so they move back into where they came from just a couple of weeks after leaving it, but if the truth be told, it’s no longer Zack’s apartment.

It’s ZackandBrian’s apartment.

While Brian’s things have always been there, it’s suddenly more noticeable. There’s Zack’s side of the bed, and Brian’s side of the bed. Zack’s toothbrush, and Brian’s toothbrush. Zack’s socks, and Brian’s socks. It’s all incredibly mundane and wildly fascinating at the same time.

Zack takes his sneakers off by the front door sometimes, and when he does, Brian takes his off there too.

He gets his license again, and Zack puts money down on a used VW that has quite some miles on it, but runs damn good. It’s a silver, standard economy edition – certainly no red Corvette – but it still feels so damn good to drive it off the lot.

And then come the Gen.Ed. classes at community college.

“What’d you learn at school today, honey?” Zack teases him when he gets home that first day.

Brian rolls his eyes, throws his bag down on the couch, and says, “I learned that I’m old…”

“Pshh,” Zack says. “You’re not old.”

“I’m old compared to a bunch of eighteen year olds…”

And then suddenly, Zack’s working, and Brian’s in school and working part time.

Alex gets charged with assault with a deadly weapon.

They have Thanksgiving with Val and Matt and friends.

Brian takes is finals and passes all of his classes with flying colors.

And they’re curled on up the couch together in early-December, hot chocolate in hand, and Zack says, “There’s something I’ve never asked you…”

“Hmm?” Brian replies, already exceedingly nervous at those words.

Zack twists to meet his eyes, and says, “How has your arm been?”

Brian blinks. “What?”

“Your arm,” Zack says quite calmly, motioning to said body part. “After you fell. Has it been okay?”

“I never fell,” Brian says, frowning. “I mean… I never fell.”

“Yeah, you did,” Zack says, uncurling from Brian side to sit up and face him properly. “When you first came to the clinic that time and you’d been – beat up. You had that bruise on your face and the cracked ribs. But then you’d done something to your shoulder too. It’d seemed like you’d torn something…”

“Oh,” Brian says.

“I didn’t mean to, just, forget about it,” Zack says, letting his eyes drop in embarrassment. “There’s just been so much else…”

“No, I know,” Brian says. “It hasn’t been bothering me. If that’s what you asking.”

“Do you have full range of motion, though? Is it strong?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” Brian says, shrugging. “I was going to start doing some weight training over at the gym. So I guess we’ll find out?”

“You might want to have someone look at it before you just go over there and plunge into your barbells,” Zack says nonchalantly, picking at a fingernail. “After about five minutes of lifting that shit around over you head, you might regret going in the first place. If there is something wrong…”

Brian regards him for a moment, glaring for a moment, before deciding, “You just want to play nurse.”

Zack glares back. “I want to make sure you’re okay,” he insists.

Brian glares.

Zack glares.

Brian caves. “Okay. What’d you want me to do?”

“Just come here,” Zack says, and motions with his own hands for Brian to reach up toward the ceiling. Brian faces him on the couch, one leg tucked underneath himself, and raises his arms straight up. The look on Zack’s face tells him he did not just pass this test, and then Zack reaches up to try to push his right arm a little farther back, just a little straighter…

He calls Zack several horrible names on that impulse of pain that he honestly doesn’t mean. He spends several moments apologizing profusely, and Zack hugs him and tells him he’s sorry for hurting him. Brian wants to laugh afterwards for how sappy it all is.

“You’re not going to want to hear this,” Zack says, fretting at his bottom lip. “But that probably needs surgery.”

“Yeah, sure,” Brian says, rolling his eyes. “It’ll get better after a while. Don’t worry.”

Zack smirks. “Yeah,” he says. “Because you got your medical education at the university of Bumfuck, Egypt. So you’d know.”

“Jackass,” Brian says, letting Zack rub at his shoulder. Zack turns him around after a moment, hands settling on his shoulderblades to begin massaging properly, and Brian lets his chin drop to his chest. “Mmm, you read my fucking mind,” he mutters.

Zack chuckles, and presses a kiss to the back of Brian’s neck. “Since I’m giving you a massage,” Zack says, “your half of the deal is to go to the doc and get your shoulder looked at.”

“I always thought my end of the deal was to roll over and spread my legs,” Brian says innocently, turning his head slightly to glance back.

Zack squeezes his shoulders and laughs. “That’s my reward if I do an especially good job,” Zack says in his sexy voice, which is also interchangeable with his moron voice. Brian smiles.

“But I thought your reward was me going to the doctor?” Brian tries, feigning confusing.

“For fuck’s sake…” Zack sighs.

Brian cracks up.

~*~

As it turns out, Zack is right.

The doctor runs Brian through an MRI screening, which shows a severely torn rotator cuff.

A torn rotator cuff equals surgery on the 2nd of May for one Brian Haner.

He whines and bitches and moans at first. Because seriously, does anyone really need their shoulder? And his works fine at the moment. It’s not a huge deal. Yeah, it does get pretty damn sore when he weight lifts with it, but…

He repeats all of this to Zack, and Zack just laughs at him.

But as it turns out, surgery isn’t bad at all. The actual procedure is out-patient and virtually noninvasive – it’s done lapriscopicly, Zack says, though Brian has no clue what this means. But Zack drives him home from the hospital that very afternoon after surgery, and Brian’s already awake if a bit drowsy, three tiny punctures in his shoulder stitched and bandaged neatly, and his arm in a big ass clunky sling.

“Come on,” Zack tells him as they enter the apartment. Brian wanders inside and hones in on the couch without having to be told. He walks over and awkwardly lies down as Zack locks the door behind them. Trying to get the immobilizing sling to cooperate with the whole ‘lying down’ plan is a bit difficult, but he eventually manages. “There you go,” Zack says once Brian’s down, then asks, “Do you want something to drink? Water? Coke?”

“Oh. Yeah. I want a soda,” he says, and goes to get back up.

“I’ll get it. I’ll get it,” Zack says, putting a hand on Brian’s side to keep him in place. “Don’t get up. You have an excuse to be waited on for a while,” he adds with a little grin.

Brian goes to protest, but then lying on the couch feels so nice right then. He relaxes again, and says, “Okay.”

Zack’s already gone into the kitchen.

When Zack comes back, he repositions himself a bit so that he can hold the glass with his free hand, because he’d be damned if he’d let Zack hold the glass for him. Not that Zack wouldn’t do it. In fact, Zack had come in looking fully prepared to do it. But there is a line between being waited on and being treated like a child.

“You’re doing really good for only a few hours post-op,” Zack comments. He leans forward from where he’s sitting on the coffee table to thumb at Brian cheek once Brian hands his drink back. “Tough as nails, though,” he adds. “So I guess that’s expected.”

“Mmm,” Brian mumbles, and goes to reach for Zack with his bad arm without thinking. He hisses in pain as it pulls in the slings.

“Easy,” Zack murmurs, sliding off of the coffee table and onto his knees by the couch. “You can’t move that,” he reminds him, running his fingers through Brian’s hair, then pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Brian decides suddenly that he wants a real kiss, so he tilts his head up, and Zack understands what this means. They’re so in tune it scares Brian sometimes.

They kiss, soft and sweet, just lips, no tongue, and then Brian says, “I love you.”

Zack smiles against his lips and says, “You too.”

Zack pulls away eventually, letting a hand linger along Brian’s hip as he moves away. “I’m going to get something to eat. I’ll be right back,” he says. “Are you hungry? Do you want something?”

“No. Not hungry,” Brian answers.

And Brian’s not really tired or sleepy, and he listens as Zack wanders away, talking about how he’s happy they decided to leave Ichy at Matt’s for the week so he wouldn’t be all over Brian’s healing shoulder…

He’s asleep before Zack makes it back to the living room with his sandwich.

~*~

He spends the next few days alternating between the couch and the bed, busying himself watching television, reading, and sleeping off the last of the anesthesia. Zack goes back to work after that first day, but he panics and frets, asks Brian if he wants Val to come over and stay with him.

Brian points out that all he really has to get up and do during the day is get something to drink, get something to eat, and piss. And he doubts he’ll need Val’s help for any of those three things.

Three days later, though, Zack has another ‘day off’. Considering he’d just taken two days off in a row to help Brian get through surgery, Brian highly doubts he actually has the day off. Or rather, had it off before he decided to stay home to play nurse with Brian, but whatever…

Silently, Brian’s happy to have him home. Brian’s used to his new life now – school, work, busy days, people everywhere. Being cooped up in the apartment alone became old within the first ten minutes.

And lover aside, Zack is just good company.

“I am so gross,” Brian tells him that afternoon. “You realize I still haven’t gotten to shower after this surgery. When am I fucking allowed to shower?”

Zack regards him thoughtfully. “You could probably get away with it now,” Zack says. “As long as we’re careful not to get those stitches too wet.”

“Then I am going to shower,” Brian tells him, struggling to stand up from the couch.

“You’ll have to let me help you,” Zack says. “You won’t be able to wash your hair yourself. You can’t reach.”

Brian goes to argue, then realizes Zack is right. Then realizes that maybe Zack washing his hair might be a little sexy. “Okay,” he says.

If Zack is surprised by the lack of an argument, he doesn’t show it. He just follows Brian into the bathroom and helps him out of his sling. Then helps him out of his shirt. Then helps him out of his jeans…

Brian had never really realized how much he used both arms until now – when he can suddenly only use one.

Zack turns the shower on, and Brian waits for it to get warm, watches as Zack pulls his clothes off as well.

“Come on,” Zack says, motioning for Brian, and Brian gets in with him, careful to keep his stitches out of the water as instructed.

Zack’s methodical – nurse thing, Brian’s always assumed – and it spills over into everything. Hair-washing included, it turns out. But it’s nice – Zack’s fingers in his hair is always nice, but it’s even better with hot water and bubbles and shampoo smell.

And then, even though he could probably handle washing his own body – he’s allowed to reach down with his healing arm, just not up – Zack just plunges on with the body wash, and Brian doesn’t find any need to stop him.

Brian doesn’t find any need to stop him, no, but when he finds himself face to face with the man, Zack’s hands rubbing over Brian’s chest, Zack’s eyes on Brian’s face, he realizes just how turned on he is. And just how long it’s been since they’ve had sex. And just how hard he’s getting.

Zack’s eyes drop from Brian’s face, slide down his chest and stomach, and land on his hardening cock. He eventually lets his soapy hands wander there as well, and Brian sucks in a quiet breath.

That slick friction is perfect.

“We haven’t had sex in a while,” Brian points out.

“Mmm,” Zack says, sidling a little closer. He lets his hands wander down to his testicles, rolls them around in his hands, then moves his hands all the way up to his stomach. Brian makes a little disappointed sigh. “It’s been about six days,” Zack says. Then, with a grin, “Not that I’m counting or anything…”

“Well,” Brian says, “you can’t go grabbing my dick like that and then not follow up.”

Zack laughs, patting Brian’s stomach, then spinning him around to wash his back. “Do you feel up to it?” he asks afterward.

“Yeah,” Brian says, smiling a little. “Yeah, I feel good.”

“Good,” Zack says, and leans forward to give him a kiss against the back of his next. His erection rubs against the back of Brian’s ass as he moves. Heat curls tight, and Brian wants.

Zack makes him wait until after they get out of they shower so they won’t get his stitches wet. And Zack makes them wait until they’re completely dried off so they can do it in the bed – less chance of Brian reinjuring the shoulder that way, Zack says. And Zack makes them wait until they get the fucking sling back on Brian, because according to Zack, Brian needs it on during sex. And on top of that, Zack makes them wait until they get a t-shirt on Brian, because apparently the sling straps will make sores on his bare skin.

Brian is pissed, horny, and beyond sexually frustrated by the time they actually make it to the bed…

Which actually makes it that much more incredibly satisfying when that one, slick finger is pressed inside him. He lets out a breathy moan, his good hand palming at his cock, and keeps eye-contact with Zack. Zack fucks him with one, then two fingers, and watches him with that sexy, pleased look that he always does. That look that blows Brian’s mind to this day.

Gorgeous green eyes.

Gorgeous green eyes that ignite every time he sees them.

And when Zack slides inside, those green eyes flutter.

“Look at me,” Brian says.

Green eyes open, and Brian smiles. Zack smiles back, and tries to hide the shudder that runs through him as he rocks back, then in. Brian eases his good hand down Zack’s shoulder and across the smooth skin of his back.

And they know each other’s bodies practically better then they know their own. They fit. Sex is panting, sweating, groaning, arching, twisting, pleasure. All without trying. And Brian can’t kid himself that it will be this way forever, but right now, the sex is always good.

Like, leg in the air, toe-curling kind of good.

Brian’s usually tired afterwards anyway, but as Zack rolls off of him, careful to avoid the sling, he feels completely ready to just roll over and go to sleep. It’s only late afternoon. He shouldn’t be this tired.

He’s been inactive as all hell, though.

Zack sidles back over for his obligatory post-coital cuddling, pressing his face into the curve of Brian’s neck and shoulder. Brian lets his head loll against Zack’s. His eyes start to drift shut.

“Did I wear you out?” Zack asks quietly, a little humorously.

Brian snorts. “Maybe,” he says. Then, “I don’t know. Just tired, I guess.”

“Some of the anesthesia still might be hanging on,” Zack says. “It sometimes takes people a good week to feel like themselves again.”

Brian nods against Zack’s hair, his eyes still closed.

“Go to sleep if you feel like it,” Zack eventually murmurs. “I probably will too.”

Yeah, Brian thinks.

And he wonders where he’d be at that exact moment if Zack weren’t there. He scrolls through the possibilities, making most of them up, because he knows exactly where he’d be.

He’d be at the corner of 7th and Gordon with a broken shoulder and a broken soul.

Yes, hope is hard to come by, but when you least expect it, it might walk up to you in the middle of a dark night with brightest green eyes you’ve ever seen.

He breathes in, the soft shampoo smell of Zack’s hair filling his senses, and drifts to sleep with love, peace, and hope.


End file.
